When I’m being harsh I think of my father’s love as one of those oversized Easter eggs – the kind wrapped in gold foil, with red ribbon tied around the middle – exciting to receive, but a hollow shell containing nothing of substance. He loves me in an abstract way, worries about me and for… Read more
Today is my birthday. I’m 57. I had to think about that (and count on my fingers), because it’s not a ‘big one’, except for one thing – it’s the first birthday I have spent sober in forty years, not counting the three times I was pregnant, and I probably snuck a few mouthfuls of… Read more
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There is an invisible garment woven around us from our earliest years; it is made of the way we eat, the way we walk, the way we greet people.