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Chapter 68

I was there for you up until about two years before you died, when the shit hit the fan for me in my life and I wasn’t even there for myself—if I ever had been. I lost my job, my home, went bankrupt, became the real me, married and moved away. It was that or die. Eventually I figured out it was better for my kids to have a weird parent—everyone has a weird relative somewhere—than a dead parent. So Carol went to sleep one night and Emery awoke the next morning, February 11, 1999. I’ve said that here before, but I haven’t said it to you.