“Your Kids Can Eat at Home,” My Dad Said—So When the Waiter Returned, I Stood Up – The Archivist

I began turning it slowly with my fingertips—a nervous habit I’d developed in childhood, something to do with my hands when the rest of me felt like it was disappearing.

People arrived in clusters. Cousins I saw once a year, aunts who kissed my cheek without quite looking at me, uncles who shook my hand and immediately turned to someone more interesting.continue reading …