“I wasn't an alcoholic. I didn't drink every day, didn't often drink to excess or binge. And could leave it alone completely for large swaths of time. But I did drink to be social. To have fun with friends. Sometimes, to sleep. Sometimes, to forget.”

“I hear. Nobody thinks so. But I do. Sometimes people whisper. Sometimes they yell. Sometimes they say mean things. I see more than the TV. It's my friend. I don't have any others, like the kids on Barney do. Why are people afraid of me? I don't want to hurt them. I taste only the sweet air, whooshed through tubes to help me breathe. If I'm lucky a bit of flavor comes with the wind or skin or clothes I smell. I wish my mouth would let me tell Mama I love her. Let me tell Daddy I ms him. Let me tell Shane how good I feel when I see him happy with Alex. I like when I swim because when I float, I am free. I like when I sleep because I dance when I dream. I hear, I see, I taste, I smell, I feel, I dream.”

“Dad staggered in, eyes eerily lit.The corners of his mouth foaming spit.His demons planned an overnight stay.Mom motioned to take the girls away.hide them in their rooms, safe in their beds.We closed the doors, covered our heads,as if the blankets could mute the sounds of his blowsor we could silence her screams behind out pillows.I hugged the littlest ones close to my chest,till the beat of my heart lulled them to rest.Only then did I let myself cry.Only then did I let myself wonder whyMom didn't fight back, didn't defend,didn't confess to family or friend.Had Dad's demons claimed her soul?Or was this, as well, a woman's role?”

“LoveIs a curious thing. Sometimes it barrels into you, leaves you breathless. Other times, it comesin- to your life, a tentative beam of morning sun sneaking through the blinds, and you thinkthis light isn't possible. The shutters are drawn. Night should linger on. I don't feel like waking. Yet theroom comes slowly lit. Sleep slithers away, and at last you can no longer deny the dawning.”

“I know he did horrible things in the jungle. Things no amount of alcohol or pills could erase. War stains soldiers, all the way through their psyches, into their souls. I understand that, and could almost forgive him for taking his own life, to quiet the ghosts. But I can never forgive him for taking my mother with him.”

“Sometimes I'm not so sure just who I am either.”

“I felt angry,frustrated.I felt I didn't belong, not in mychurch, not in my home, notin my skin.Amidst the chaos, i feltalone,in need of a friend instead ofa sister, someone detached frommy world.The "woman's role" theorydisgusted me.I would soon be a woman, and Iknew I could never perform asexpected.I was tired of my mom's submissionto her religion, to her husband'ssick quest for an heir,to his abuse.I was sick of my dad, ofreaching forhim as he fell farther awayfrom us and into the arms ofJohnnie WB.”