The Summer of 1962

My  mother, who was passing me in the hallway in the morning and at night, might have a reason for being out of touch with my feelings and moods.  She was always busy, always distracted, but lately had seemed even more so.  She had a lot on her plate at work always, heart breaking stories of single women who were struggling to make it by suing for child support, or even worse, the stories where the mothers simply didn't care about anyone but themselves and screwing as many people (literally and figuratively) along the way to get what they wanted.  ...more