What’s Left Behind

A battle of wills lay claim to my destiny before I could even take sides.

I think I may have missed the first day of kindergarten.

People usually don’t believe me when I say I don’t miss my father.

“Hello, Aileen,” Nick, the deli-man, said to my mother, then looked to me. “Hey, kiddo.”

Of all the dysfunction in my life growing up, the most confusing thing, by far, was my parents. Both in and of themselves and together as…

I am told that, when I was born, Colin would not leave my side. My brother, a mere three years old, insisted on taking care of me…

I can’t be sure when my brother first touched me. It’s these memories that get particularly jumbled when I try to piece together…

Broken memories are a disconcerting reality. Indeed, what is missing can be more disturbing than what is there.

When I was little, I had a habit of rummaging through my mother’s closet — a chaotic shambles of hidden treasure, including a mountain of…