Working on the memoir again. Trying to tell my story right again. Keep digging. Find a vein. Mine it. Bleed it.
When I think of my parents, there is a deep sense of sadness, of unresolved shame or guilt. I imagine a movie, in which I am the star, leaving my parents in some German fairy tale scenario, only to have me, in the last moments of their lives, attempt a hail Mary comeback to rectify all the wrong I feel I did them by leaving.