When Mother's Day Is a Meditation on What Never Was

"You were never sweet and affectionate like your brother, Shannon. Hugging you was always just like hugging a wooden board."

That's what my mother said to me when I finally worked up the nerve at nearly 40 years old to ask her why she never liked me more, even as a child. I was hurt, of course, but not necessarily surprised. She had a particular picture in her head of what her daughter would be like when she eventually had one . . . and it sure as hell wasn't me.