This post was written in 5 minutes, No pre write, no edits, no obsessing...GO SING "WOW! Emily Ann, when it comes to ABBA, you sure can sing!" The words fell from my mom's lips so easily. It was as if she complimented me like that every day. This would be the only time I remember my mom ever giving me such a compliment. We were laying on the rust colored, shag carpetof our wood paneled basement on Sequioa Drive in Eagan, Minnesota. I was 9. Earlier that morning my dad had packed what was left of his things to leave for what would be the final time. Molly had retreated to the basement to work things out with a bottle of Ernest and Julio Gallo wine and a stack of ABBA records. Despite the alcohol, I loved this afternoon with my mother. We sang, we laughed and we talked. During that afternoon our world was not filled with chaos and confusion. There was only a connection that my mother and I made in that moment. The bond we created that afternoon would