Who would have dreamed that I could reach new pits of darkness at my advanced age? A gal like me doesn’t even need death or destruction to set her off. Just garden variety loss: of structure and direction. Of friendship. Of objectives. Of sense of belonging. Of strength. I just don’t have enough bootstraps. Or rocks. What Dad used to call “that characteristic Ginna resolve” is below empty, with no filling station still in business. […]
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