But I discovered something else in writing this book, something even more graceful and vital than the elusive "perspective." In all that darkness, there had been love. What I'd felt all along was not a fantasy, not yet another misinterpretation. I loved my parents. I wasn't wrong about that. And somehow, against all odds, my parents (especially my mother) were able to bring their versions of affection into our world, into our family, as well.
-- Heather Sellers, You Don't Look Like Anyone I Know, p. 353
Tuesday, November 12, 2013
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