Memories memoir

I remember not forgiving my mother for months when one winter evening in the hills, she gave my green woolen skirt to a woman to cover her child. I had argued, “Did you not find anything else worth giving in the entire house?” Though, I had outgrown and didn’t wear that skirt, but still countered that it was my favorite. Eventually, I grew up being emotionally attached to all sorts of things, right from little teddy bear key rings to soft toys and certain clothes et al. But with passing years, it became difficult to mother so many things that had emotional value attached to them, and what worse, I had no choice.