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“The truth was probably that my mother had been so defined by the existence of my father that when he died, she couldn’t see anything else before her. He’d closed his fist around her, she’d let him, and then when he died there was so much white space of possibility around her, she couldn’t breathe.” — Amanda Lee Koe
The truth was probably that my mother had been so defined by the existence of my father that when he died, she couldn’t see anything else before her. He’d closed his fist around her, she’d let him, and then when he died there was so much white space of possibility around her, she couldn’t breathe.