Joe and I had our first couples therapy appointment on Tuesday, and it went pretty well.
When we were talking about our childhoods, I told Megan, the counselor, the story I last blogged about, “Selfish Bitch.” 159 more words
We were on vacation.
We went for two weeks every summer. One week to my mom’s parents’ in the east, which usually involved one day at the ocean and fun cousins; and one week to my dad’s mom’s in the South, which involved a huge, mostly empty haunted feeling house with three floors and two staircases as well as nearly abandoned mountain top property and a dirty river to swim in. 423 more words
In the town where I was born lived a man who had a wife and two children. And so we sailed into the sun.
While I became closer to my mother as an adult, when I was a child we did not connect, even though I spent most of my early childhood days and evenings completely alone with her, isolated, in the farmhouse. 1,011 more words