This is the first letter I have received from my mother in the last three years.  I'd written her three times.  I haven't phoned in that time, except to call and ask if there was a family history of heart arrhythmia, because my doctor wanted to know.  She has phoned me once, to tell me my aunt, her sister, had died; she called me about two weeks ( Read more... )

So, on November 23, I wrote about the enlightening phone conversation I'd had about a month earlier with my mother, regarding the memoir I wrote about my father. I had locked the post at the time, but I don't really feel a need to keep it private, and while there's a good bit of revenge in my motives, I also want the input of more people who know ( Read more... )

This summer, I wrote a short memoir about my father. As you can probably guess from the title (Daddy Dearest: Tales of Terror and Glorious Schadenfreude), it's not exactly veneration. I've achieved a kind of acceptance, and something between pity and sympathy, but the fact remains that living with him was miserable and scary for me, and ( Read more... )