Artemis. 🪽🏹 | CLOSED

First time I brought groceries without checking my account first.I sat in the parking lot and cried. because i remember every time my mom stood in the aisle doing quite math in her head, putting things back without explanation choosing the smaller size. skipping the thing she wanted so the cart could have what we needed. I remember in the specific silence of not enough. And now I’m sitting in the parking lot with bags in the back and the balance that didn’t require prayers. Nobody tells you about this part of making it. The guilt,the grief the strange sadness of getting what you always wanted and feeling like you left someone behind in the wanting. like success is a room you walked into alone and everything you came from is standing outside the door. I call my mom more now send money when I can buy the thing she would have put back not to fix the Past because I know now what it cost her. every skipped meal, every wornout pair of shoes,every "I am fine" that wasn’t fine she poured out everything so I could be full. The least I can do is make sure she finally is too