Kelly Corrigan made me cry when she wrote this in her book The Middle Place:
"About twenty years later (after some wild times in high school), I called my parents from the maternity ward and cried through the following, "Mom, Dad, it's a girl, and Dad, we named her after you. We named her Georgia. " Three years after that, almost to the day, I called home to tell my parents that I had cancer. And that's what this whole thing is about. Calling home. Instinctively. Even when all the paperwork- a marriage license, a notarized deed, two birth certificates, and seven years of tax returns-- clearly indicates you're an adult, but all the same, there you are, clutching the phone and thanking God that you're still somebody's daughter."
No comments:
Post a Comment