The Slowest Self-Therapy in the World
by Karen Stromberg

I'm almost 70
and just figured out
that having insufficient parenting (his)
is not worth bitching about.

It's worth one single moment of blinding sadness:
what I missed,
(without the details)
what he missed
(without the details).

I thank him for the harm
he didn't do.

(And) I'm done.

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