“You tell the real estate guy it’ll be your weekend place. You tell yourself you’re going to get a lot of writing done here.”
My mother traded her independence for the fullness of a family, tied it to a post for the confines of marriage.
“The day I confessed to being a witch I had no idea what I was doing.”
“Alzheimer’s had been pickpocketing her of a few memories each day until finally I was just a voice she couldn’t place.”
Eddy’s lifetime of illness, and her encounters with medical therapies, poised her as an instrument of revelation.
“Once your children know that even one person detests their bones and breath, they know.”
When I cut myself it wasn’t for attention. I cut to feel safe. And to stay sober.
I’ll go through the egg-freezing procedure that will give me the chance of maybe, one day, having a child.
My grandmother wanted a perfect funeral for the man who’d beaten and abused her for all fifty years of their marriage.