Mom Called Me Damaged at My Sister’s Baby Shower

minutes and no photographs.

Her voice shook.

But she said it.

Dad began therapy.

He told me during a phone call while I folded laundry and Alexander argued with Sam about brushing teeth.

“I’m seeing someone,” Dad said.

I froze.

“A woman?”

“A therapist,” he said quickly.

I laughed before I could stop myself.

“She says I avoid conflict.”

“Groundbreaking.”

“I deserved continue reading …