“I’m not asking for the wailing and gnashing of teeth, but perhaps some recognition of the fact that it will be a year since your mother passed?” “I’m aware of that.” “And it doesn’t concern you? That sense of cold detachment.” “It’s not detachment. I can’t detach myself from my mother like she’s an investigation that I’m working on, but I can compartmentalize so that it doesn’t keep me up at night.” “‘It’? The fact that it’s not keeping you up at night or that you’re not thinking about her during the day, right now, in this moment. You’re dismissing her.”
Should I be concerned I keep picking dead parent novels? Even that crap self-pubbed one had dead parents.
