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Gone Under the House
So, I just spent some time going through and sorting two more of Lu's boxes. I don't like it (I cried), but that's two more done and that much closer to finished. (I also now get to check off my "One Thing" for the day, which I haven't been too good about here lately.)
I ran across a letter that my mom had started and, as far as I can tell never finished nor sent. Contextually I can tell that she must have written in right about the time she and my dad were getting divorced (there's no date).
The following bit really caught my attention:
When I was a little girl an old dog got sick and "went under the house." I remember my Mother telling me that dogs do that when they are sick -- and they stay until they get well or die. I've always been a bit like that old dog; in times of extreme stress I withdraw. This past year has been dreadful, but I think I'm not going to die.
So there you have it, genties and ladlemen.
It's hereditary.
I ran across a letter that my mom had started and, as far as I can tell never finished nor sent. Contextually I can tell that she must have written in right about the time she and my dad were getting divorced (there's no date).
The following bit really caught my attention:
When I was a little girl an old dog got sick and "went under the house." I remember my Mother telling me that dogs do that when they are sick -- and they stay until they get well or die. I've always been a bit like that old dog; in times of extreme stress I withdraw. This past year has been dreadful, but I think I'm not going to die.
So there you have it, genties and ladlemen.
It's hereditary.