It was 6:10 pm on a dark and stormy Friday night. Karen was not home, and I had been painting some that day on a canvas. It was an adventuresome painting. It was not going as I wished, but that was normal for paintings. I had just finished dinner. Then, a knock came at the…
Month: March 2018
Dear Mom,
This post has taken me a long time to write. That’s telling really. You and I were a difficult puzzle. But I remember: We were sitting across the table from one another, at that Italian place for lunch, in Hemet, California. The year was 1989. I had just remembered the abuse, in the first flashback,…