D looked up tooth pain according to everyone’s favourite 90’s guru, Louise Hay, and guess what? A deep seated grief over insufficient nurturing. You nailed it, Louise. The ache is real. I’m living the counterpoint as Blake, Andy and I say aurevoir and bon voyage to Jacobi, our presence a clear message of, You matter; that message I have been sending to both of them to the best of my ability for 18 years. You matter as I spent weekends driving from sports club to drama school. You matter as I sat in the foyer of Dunhurst all morning in those first few bumpy months of transition from home to mainstream schooling. You matter as afterschool Jujitsu and karate saw me driving the A3 for hours three times a week. You matter as the myriad material breakages and losses and fuck ups and accidents are relegated to not important relative to you. Of course I fucked up sometimes, of course I sent messages that I’m not proud of, but on the whole I think I did okay. When I was chatting with I said near the end, I’m a good mother, and he said, It’s so nice to hear you say that. I think it’s worth saying when on the whole, human failings accounted for, we’ve done all right.
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