The Dream

My dad was an alcoholic. Is an alcoholic. Was and has been an alcoholic all my life. He lives in another state, far away from any relatives, from anyone who might question his lifestyle or call matters to his attention that he doesn’t want to deal with. He’s alone. He’s not in good health. He drinks too much. Heavily. He has strange accidents that we’re sure are all alcohol-related. My siblings and I worry about him. He’s not yet old enough or in bad enough shape that we have to tend to him. So at this point we can just be angry with him and anxious about what the future holds. More

I Remember

I remember having amnesia.

I was eleven years old and in the hospital and unable to be released because I couldn’t remember anything. But I remember.

I remember my mom taking me and my horse, Corky, to a gymkhana on a weekday morning in the summer. More