It starts in mid-May. I get moody, snappish. Kate asks “Are you mad at me?” No, I’m not mad at you. And yes I am, but only because I’m mad at everyone. It’s been over 40 years since that terrible day in June when my brother John died by suicide, three days before my 14th birthday. And nearly 30 years since my beloved sister Barbara died, also by suicide, in July. So summer kind of sucks.
Read more
when john died,
i blamed myself.
turns out my siblings
blamed themselves too.
how does that work
mathematically?
“I’m sad today,” I said to my kids.
I didn’t want it to be a big deal. I wanted it to be like one of Kate’s thousand little conversations, casually mentioned and repeated over time so that the lesson gradually and naturally sinks in.
But a thousand little conversations have to start somewhere.
Read more