Firing neurons

My mother moved into an apartment today.
Shes living on her own for the first time in her life,
been clean/sober for four months straight,
which is more than shes had in 30 years, really.
Im proud of her for making it this far,
but I'm still a ball of caution because
of her many past attempts and failures at sobriety.
Christy made the point tonight that my mother
really doesn't "know" me or her, and shes right.
Mom spent so much time hiding in her haze
that she doesnt even know me now,
doesnt understand me as a mother should a son.
It's hard to put into words.
I've never really had a "mother" in the traditional sense
and now that she's clean and starting to act like one,
I feel strange and untrusting, but not without hope.
Hope that she stays the path.
Peace for dreams.