Published in Southern Review

“When I was a child, my father could circle his fingers, thumb to middle, around both of my wrists. In my forties now, I feel sure that he still could if he tried. His bearish frame chuckling with the absurdity of the fact that my tiny body came in part from his, I imagined then that a simple, accidental twist might lead to a break. There was fear in the imbalance and my response to it was to find other ways to be strong, of mind and heart. With time I forgave everyone for assuming weakness and married a man who knew otherwise and better, as I did. What I did not know though is that it can all break, wrists and hearts, given the right amount of pressure.”