It's regrets that make painful memories. When I was crazy I did everything just right.
Most adults have forgotten what they had to do to survive childhood.
Well, I thought, last night I paid my dues. I faced death. Now I can stay.
My mother, who was radiant, young, and beautiful even as she lay dying, heard voices and saw visions, but she always managed to make friends with them and was much too charming to hospitalize even at her craziest.
My only hope was to be polite.
There was a point when I was 15 or 16 that I realized that my father wanted me to be a loner. I decided, 'It's okay to be an introvert, but I don't want to be a loner. I want a few other people in my life.