“I wake with the sun but I do not get up right away. I lie under the covers and contemplate what the day holds for me and I attempt a prayer for help. Corinthia would think it’s the smartest thing I have done in a long time. But I’m not seasoned at it and I am not sure I am making any sense. I think it must be enough to simply say “Help me say it, help him hear it,” because that is about all that escapes in whispers off my lips. At seven-thirty, I get up. The house is quiet. I shower, dress, dry... my hair and head downstairs. Shelley is in the kitchen in her robe making coffee. “He’s coming downstairs in a few minutes,” she says quietly. “He suggested I make pancakes.” Shelley says nothing more and starts to load dishes from the ice cream we ate last night into the dishwasher. I hear my Dad coming down the stairs. He seems startled to see me. “Well, you’re up in plenty of time,” he says, smiling. But it is a nervous smile. Shelley keeps her back to us, fiddling with dishes in the sink.MoreLessRead More Read Less
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