It’s funny. Sometimes, I wish I had talents that would open me up to other, more valued and lucrative professions; applicable to being a brain surgeon, for instance, instead of a writer. But, after my father died in May and I spent several days on the computer writing about the experience, I felt fortunate to do what I do.
Here, in another venue, is the continuing story of the House of Death.
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What a beautifully written account of a surreal and awful chain of events. It’s amazing how wrong things can go in the dumb and dumber areas of American life.
Excellent article, Ruth! I gave if five stars
I am so sorry, Ruth. What a horrible ordeal. Duane sounds like an idiot who doesn’t deserve to work with grieving people. I love that you added your father’s sense of humor. That passage made me tear up. It is very beautiful.