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Nibbles
A Reflection on Mother’s Guilt By Anna Kristina WHEN TASKED WITH WRITING THIS ARTICLE I THOUGHT, ‘SURE! I’M A GOOD PSYCHOTHERAPIST, I CAN WRITE AMELIORATING WORDS AROUND THE SUBJECT OF MOTHER’S GUILT.” HOWEVER, A DAY BEFORE DEADLINE, I FIND MYSELF IN THE MUDDIEST QUAGMIRE OF MOTHER’S GUILT I HAVE, TO DATE, EXPERIENCED.
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ho am I to be giving advice? I feel awful. All due to an entirely avoidable incident between the family dog and the beloved guinea pig. Long story short. Bad dog. Guinea pig shrouded in flower sand buried. I knew the dog wasn’t trustworthy, I thought the secondhand hutch a tad dubious and when my child had a hunch to check on her piggie, I held her up with IDK... some inane, mumhassle nonsense. Who is responsible for this tragedy? Me. Guilty. Painfully guilty. Grief is so often coloured with washes of guilt. Like an awkward sister who’s been
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