Family and Relationships
I. I remember shaking hands: damp sweaty hands and dry scratchy hands, bone-crushing hands…
He would have said, sometimes it’s not about the truth. Sometimes it’s about kindness. Especially when it comes to family.
I was six years old when I became aware that death was something that would happen to me. I was in the car with my mom, in the backseat because she followed the rules, and we were on our way home from the grocery store.
The breakfast rush was hitting its peak when we learned about the dead woman lying not far from Table Four.