"Good morning." "Mom!" Paul shouted as he pushed his skirt down to keep his panties frombeing show. "I meant to change..." "You slept in those clothes..." Paul's mom said as she crouched down in herwhite Tee-shirt with the Pepsi symbol on it and a pair of blue denimshorts. "Leave me alone.." Paul said, breaking into tears. His mom grabbed himbefore he could get up and run off like he did the night before. "You musthate me." "I don't hate you." His Mom said as he wiped the tears from his. She never gave herself the chance to ever feel pain or sorrow. I actually enjoyed watching her cry, finally letting something out, born of her own grief and not someone else’s. I think I cried not for Stan, lord knows I’d done that enough, but for her, for her ability to finally feel anguish for something just for the sake of ... whatever - the need to feel pain, to release, to let go and finally express grief about something. But her remorse was derived from some obligation to feel sadness for. More

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