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memoir

RSFTE | Winners & Losers

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RSFTE | Winners & Losers

Today’s post is an excerpt from the memoir I wrote last year, the one I used as a tool to work through both my relationship with, and the loss of my father. Which is an ongoing process, at best.

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leprechaun

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leprechaun

When we sat down at a table together, for better or worse, we attended the ritual of being family, and somehow this made it so.

Mostly I think of dimly lit Italian restaurants, the smell of garlic hanging like a spirit in the air, and dad ordering Chianti in a weird accent, insisting despite the confusion of the wait staff, that he was pronouncing it authentically.

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an excerpt, vol. 2

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an excerpt, vol. 2

He practically wedges himself past the woman and into the house, although she hasn’t exactly opened the door wide in welcome. I meet her eyes in concession to the unusualness of this situation, an unusualness I feel she and I exist alone within, like a very small room painted in bright colors which clash violently enough to make you uncomfortable. But then I dart past her, after my father, because I am slightly concerned that concession or no, she might shut the door in my face.

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