By Alix Kates Shulman
A decent, unflinching mirrored image at the that means of family members, from the writer of the bestselling novel Memoirs of an Ex-Prom Queen
Alix Kates Shulman wasn’t awaiting assisting her getting older mom and dad fresh out their condo and get ready for the ultimate years in their lives. She had fled suburban Cleveland at age twenty to carve out her personal lifestyles in ny urban. yet as she begun dismantling their residence of 40 years, the duty developed right into a priceless studying adventure she might by no means forget.
Shulman discovers the lives of 2 colourful, brilliant humans from whom she remained far away whereas pursuing a literary occupation. She unearths herself grappling with remorse and looking redemption within the look for what it ability to be a very good daughter. With heat and perception, Shulman sheds mild on a fancy, painful occasion that many adults ultimately face—the ultimate journey home.
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Extra info for A Good Enough Daughter: A Memoir
The boy was apparently not eager to date my mother in a car that was liable to choke her to death with smut, but he had little choice here. He said, Thank you, buddy, and reached for the keys. My father dangled them but didn’t let go. ” When the boy went to pick up my mother, my father was sitting in the backseat, his suit pressed, a carnation in his lapel. It was cool weather, and all the flower pots and beds were just dead sticks, and she has always wondered if he crawled in a hothouse, or a bedroom window.
The one thing that worried her was the way his mother looked at her. “I thought she didn’t like me, ’cause she just sat there, and looked at me so sad,” my mother said. As they left, Velma reached as high as she could and hugged her neck, fiercely. Years later, she would tell her what she wanted to say, but dared not, with the men in the room. She wanted to tell her to run. But there seemed no need to be afraid, then. “I never saw him drink then,” my mother said. “He drank coffee. I never even remember seeing him with a beer.
Her two oldest boys were all but grown by the time I came along. The oldest referred to me only as “that dude,” and the middle one, I still believe, is from another galaxy. But I would tolerate the little boy, for the woman. I believed I was catching him at a good age. He was house-trained, past diapering but still too young to borrow my car or ask me questions on sex, about which, of course, I would be forced to lie. I did not expect much. All I wanted was a brave, clean boy who would take out the trash, be kind to his mother, and occasionally bathe the big dog, which also came with the marriage and smelled as if it had already died.
A Good Enough Daughter: A Memoir by Alix Kates Shulman