I had a memory, of standing on the precipice of the Grand Canyon. It was just my mom and me standing on the edge, looking off into the chasm. This had been on the way back from Texas. My father was there in the car, waiting. His presence, patiently waiting behind us was even bigger than that of the canyon spread before us. I remembered that moment at the barrier, my mom clutching tightly onto my wrist. For a moment, she clasped so much it hurt. Do you remember the circus? That was fun, wasn’t it? You’re hurting me. I know, honey. I’m sorry. I’m so sorry.
The double meaning behind their coversation hurtsss
