Memory is a tenuous thing, like a rainbow's end or a camera with a failing lens.

One Time, One Day between Davie and Roberta , I asked my mom why she persisted, kept on having baby after baby, She looked at me, at a spot between my eyes, blinking like I had suddenly fallen crazy. She paused before answering as if to confide would legitimize my fears. She drew a deep breath, leaned against the chair. I touched her hand and I thought she might cry. Instead she put baby Davie in my arms Pattyn, she said, it's a woman's role. I decided if it was my role, I'd rather disappear.

It's just so hard to feel good, you know?" I do know. And more than that, it's just so incredibly hard to feel. (54)

Without Warning Sometimes you're traveling a highway, the only road you've ever known, and wham! A semi comes from nowhere and rolls right over you.

I want to open myself, let him inside. But how do I give what has already been taken?

The Screaming flashed me back to a time when mom and dad were still together if you could call miles apart together.

I'm sad. Pressed down by sorrow. I'm angry. Pissed at God, if there is one, and the way things are. I'm scared. Confused by the whys. Why are we here? Is there, really, some intelligent design? Why do we cry for someone who leaves us if there's some Grand Pearly Gate in the sky? Why worry about how we build our lives if the ultimate ending for all is death, a single breath away? (358)