Courage
September 16th 2009 “Be courageous,” Gabriel says to me, at three already deeply in love with words. He gives me a sidelong glance before plunging a forefinger into a bucket of fish roe, scarlet up to the knuckle. That is how our last morning began: a happy grandmother, standing on a wharf, modeling courage but not feeling brave.
It has occurred to me that I am cutting myself ruthlessly adrift, after 35 years
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