I can’t help but look at you sympathetically. All you are trying is to do is help your mother who is a hoarder, and she can’t see that. All she sees is you trying to control and dictate everything.

Taking a breath, I put a gloved hand on your shoulder in a way to soothe and comfort you. “Listen,” I begin as I knew I needed to say something to ease your mind. “We all see that it’s bad. All we need to do is get her to see it.”