wonderland

My mother always struggled with something. Mental or physical, she had problems.
Most of the time, it was bipolar depression. Her mood swings could be bad. Really bad. But they got worse after my father left.
   He vanished without a trace, taking everything with him. My mother spent a week sobbing in her room before she finally came back to reality. I was twelve by then, so I could take care of myself, but I still wanted my mother back.
   I'm not saying that she was a bad mother. She was amazing. She never (intentionally) poisoned the image of my father, or spoke an ill word about anyone.
   But she still wasn't enough for both parents.
   My mother knew, and did her best.
Until the day she couldn't.