At My Father’s Ceremony They Said I Could Not Do Anything Right Until I Walked In And Smiled

since my mother died, and who was now sitting in his kitchen at seventy-one with a cup of tea and the inventory of what that choice had cost.

“Tell me,” he said.

“Tell you what?”

“What you can. All of it. Whatever the rules allow.”

The rules were specific and long-standing and I had navigated them for twenty-seven years with the care of someone who understood continue reading …