No sleep. ...but I got to talk to you. I count it a win.

So.
You keep calling, which both revitalizes me, and rocks my world again.
The things you say about what's going on there worries me.  Nothing beyond the "neglect" you were suffering under before, but I gave you better.  I showed you that life could be different.
I'm not sure that was the right decision.

You keep stealing phones in the middle of the night, and having whispered conversations about how much you love and miss me.  About how nothing is right.  About when you come home.
The way you pointedly call her Mother, with a pointedness in your voice.  About how you still make sure to call me Mom, even though I never asked that of you.
I taught you to fight for what you wanted.
I'm not sure that was the right decision, either.
Anyway.

When they grow up, sometimes they turn out like this.

That's Nomi. I emotionally raised her, until our mother moved her to Vancouver....and..online, via messenger, as soon as she got herself privacy at a computer.
I hope that you remember Nomi.  She sent you some stuff, which I'm still trying to work out a way to get to you.

The other reason that I bring her up.
Our mother decided that she wanted us not to talk, once I'd made the decision not to have our mother in my life anymore.
Not sure that you remember much more about Ruth, then the indignation you suffered when she peed on your chair.
I miss you. Every single day.
You are never far from my thoughts, not ever, and I hope you know that you will always have a home in my heart.