Every night I prepare with all I have to give them the best of what’s left of me. And I ask myself every morning, when their vacant expressions are the best they give me in return, what it is worth to keep on giving. How long, I wonder, before I resent their ingratitude, before I give begrudgingly? How long before I’ve run out of giving?
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Published by jgalyn
I'm too humble to write a memoir after three decades. View all posts by jgalyn