My mom wasn't the "best mother in the world." But, she tried her best to be a good mother. Like all humans, she was flawed and towards the end, with age and battle against cancer, she became eccentric and challenging to handle.
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Growing up being her daughter was not easy. She was finicky. E.g., clothes had to be hung on the clothesline in a certain way depending on the type and material, folded and segregated in a certain way. The "certain way" was her way.
