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I was close to my mother-in-law. After I divorced, she got cancer again. I asked to see her many times. I never got an answer to my request to go see her.
 
But my in-laws were angry for divorcing. Fuckers finally allowed me to go to her funeral. Probably so I could be there for my kids.
 
If I hear tango music, which isn't often, I immediately think of walking into her home and catching her in the kitchen cooking while listening to tangos.
 
It's been years. The memories become bittersweet over time. But healing takes time. I hope X starts to heal sooner rather than later.