Love, Anger, Madness

“And you don’t allow for feelings, then?” She interrupted me, saying that I didn’t understand. I said that I understood very well. I asked her if she didn’t make any allowances, even for love. “What does that have to do with it?” she objected. “Do you think what you have is love? This poverty, this exhausting yourself, this giving up everything, th

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When I was growing up, we went to New Orleans annually. I do not remember which visit it was when she took me to the Bourbon Orleans Hotel. But I remember her finger, slender with heavy knuckles, like mine have become, pointing at the plaque “Former Site of Holy Family Sisters Convent.” The unmentioned historic purpose of the ballroom was that it s

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