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The
other
alternative
in
the
backs
of
our
minds
,
of
course
,
was
that
one
of
us
might
change
.
He
might
become
more
open
and
affectionate
,
not
withholding
himself
from
anyone
who
loves
him
on
the
fear
that
she
will
eat
his
soul
.
Or
I
might
learn
how
to
…
stop
trying
to
eat
his
soul
.
So
many
times
I
had
wished
with
David
that
I
could
behave
more
like
my
mother
does
in
her
marriage
-
independent
,
strong
,
self
-
sufficient
.
A
self
-
feeder
.
Able
to
exist
without
regular
doses
of
romance
or
flattery
from
my
solitary
farmer
of
a
father
.
Able
to
cheerfully
plant
gardens
of
daisies
among
the
inexplicable
stone
walls
of
silence
that
my
dad
sometimes
builds
up
around
himself
.
My
dad
is
quite
simply
my
favorite
person
in
the
world
,
but
he
is
a
bit
of
an
odd
case
.
An
ex
-
boyfriend
of
mine
once
described
him
this
way
:
"
Your
father
only
has
one
foot
on
this
earth
.
And
really
,
really
long
legs
…
"
What
I
grew
up
watching
in
my
household
was
a
mother
who
would
receive
her
husband
’
s
love
and
affection
whenever
he
thought
to
offer
it
,
but
would
then
step
aside
and
take
care
of
herself
whenever
he
drifted
off
into
his
own
peculiar
universe
of
low
-
grade
oblivious
neglect
.
This
is
how
it
looked
to
me
,
anyway
,
taking
into
account
that
nobody
(
and
especially
not
the
children
)
ever
knows
the
secrets
of
a
marriage
.
What
I
believed
I
grew
up
seeing
was
a
mother
who
asked
nothing
of
anybody
.
This
was
my
mom
,
after
all
-
a
woman
who
had
taught
herself
how
to
swim
as
an
adolescent
,
alone
in
a
cold
Minnesota
lake
,
with
a
book
she
’
d
borrowed
from
the
local
library
entitled
How
to
Swim
.
To
my
eye
,
there
was
nothing
this
woman
could
not
do
on
her
own
.
But
then
I
’
d
had
a
revelatory
conversation
with
my
mother
,
not
long
before
I
’
d
left
for
Rome
.
She
’
d
come
into
New
York
to
have
one
last
lunch
with
me
,
and
she
’
d
asked
me
frankly
-
breaking
all
the
rules
of
communication
in
our
family
’
s
history
-
what
had
happened
between
me
and
David
.
Further
disregarding
the
Gilbert
Family
Standard
Communications
Rule
-
book
,
I
actually
told
her
.
I
told
her
everything
.
I
told
her
how
much
I
loved
David
,
but
how
lonely
and
heartsick
it
made
me
to
be
with
this
person
who
was
always
disappearing
from
the
room
,
from
the
bed
,
from
the
planet
.
"
He
sounds
kind
of
like
your
father
,
"
she
said
.
A
brave
and
generous
admission
.
"
The
problem
is
,
"
I
said
,
"
I
’
m
not
like
my
mother
.
I
’
m
not
as
tough
as
you
,
Mom
.
There
’
s
a
constant
level
of
closeness
that
I
really
need
from
the
person
I
love
.
I
wish
I
could
be
more
like
you
,
then
I
could
have
this
love
story
with
David
.
But
it
just
destroys
me
to
not
be
able
to
count
on
that
affection
when
I
need
it
.
"
Then
my
mother
shocked
me
.
She
said
,
"
All
those
things
that
you
want
from
your
relationship
,
Liz
?
I
have
always
wanted
those
things
,
too
.
"
In
that
moment
,
it
was
as
if
my
strong
mother
reached
across
the
table
,
opened
her
fist
and
finally
showed
me
the
handful
of
bullets
she
’
d
had
to
bite
over
the
decades
in
order
to
stay
happily
married
(
and
she
is
happily
married
,
all
considerations
weighed
)
to
my
father
.
I
had
never
seen
this
side
of
her
before
,
not
ever
.
I
had
never
imagined
what
she
might
have
wanted
,
what
she
might
have
been
missing
,
what
she
might
have
decided
not
to
fight
for
in
the
larger
scheme
of
things
.
Seeing
all
this
,
I
could
feel
my
worldview
start
to
make
a
radical
shift
.
