Angela Kelsey

Tell the Story


Filed in Memoir :: February 15, 2012

February 14, 2003

I know I waited while dinner cooled, my thighs against the fabric of the dining room chairs. I know he said he was having a truck repaired.

But beyond those small details? I couldn’t know then any more than I can know now.

Even when he was alive, he wasn’t talking.

I used to wonder how to know more. I used to believe that if only I could know, then …  Then what?  Then I would know what to do.

My desire to know was a diversion, a distraction, leading only to delay and denial.

As things turned out, I knew what to do. I knew based on a source deeper than any empirical evidence I could ever gather.

“Trust your knowing, Angela,” a teacher used to tell me. “Trust your knowing.”

I did. I do.





Filed in Memoir

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