I've lost count

I grew up in a very abnormal household. One parent who smoked weed, gladly sharing the second hand smoke with her eldest daughter.
In the background, Simon & Garfunkel and John Denver paraded the airwaves.
In fact, I am reminiscing about it now. Listening to Simon & Garfunkel, remembering the days I almost forgot.
I forgot about Simon & Garfunkel for quite a while. They were my mothers music, not mine. It's funny, because these 'oldies' are my favorites now.
I suppose that I am confessing that I loved my childhood more than I lead on.
There was a lot of trouble and pain, a lot of it. I spent most of my time complaining of it. Today, though, I find it unique.
It has formed me into a free-spirited yet severly organized woman.
Although my mother was merely a woman living in my house.
I wouldn't trade the memories I have with her for any other mother.
She was barely home, but when she was. We would sing Janis Joplin songs from the top of our lungs. I would watch her as she puffed on her drug of choice. She would sometimes come my long hair. And sometimes she would even take me to animal shelters, the places where she worked.
Despite the complaining and tears I've thrown on every one.
I take it back today. I take it all back.
My childhood is full of unforgettable happiness, in the songs of John Denver, Simon & Garfunkel, The Police, etc.
And I love it.