My younger brother Vinny didn’t buy it. “Bullshit,” he asserted with his usual diplomatic aplomb, “you’re as crazy as the rest of us.” I find it difficult to argue with that. However, the counselor’s words helped me to detach from what truly had been a “crazy house.”
No one got a pass. All were harmed. Some have been more oriented toward healing than others. We all walk our own paths at our own speed. In the end, we will all get there.
You know, Rose, that I didn’t think of you as crazy when we were in high school or while we were living together in Brooklyn in our early twenties. It seemed like your circumstances often were, but you were (and still are) OK in my book. oxoxoxoxo
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And you in mine! Love you!
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