I knew something as I watched: almost everyone was saying goodbye to me. I was becoming one of the many little-girl-losts. They would go back to their homes and put me to rest, a letter from the past never to be reopened or reread. And I could say goodbye to them, wish them well, bless them somehow for their good thoughts. A handshake in the street, a dropped item picked up and retrieved and handed back, or a friendly wave from the distant window, a nod, a smile, a moment when the eyes lock over the antics of a child.
Alice SeboldI watched my beautiful sister running . . . and I knew she was not running away from me or toward me. Like someone who has survived a gut-shot, the wound had been closing, closing - braiding into a scar for eight long years.
Alice SeboldThe damage can fester under layers of time and change, and an ignorant, thoughtless remark can easily reopen the wound.
Alice SeboldHe took the hat from my mouth. ''Tell me you love me'', he said. Gently I did. The end came anyway
Alice Sebold