With Children The Clock Is Reset. We

A Lot Of My Upbringing Was About Denying Or Fretting Or Evading.

The Sky Was Different, Without Color, Taut And Unforgiving. But The Water Was The Most Unforgiving Thing, Nearly Black At Times, Cold Enough, I Knew, To Kill Me, Violent Enough To Break Me Apart. The Waves Were Immense, Battering Rocky Beaches Without Sand. The Farther I Went, The More Desolate It Became, More Than Any Place I'd Been, But For This Very Reason The Landscape Drew Me, Claimed Me As Nothing Had In A Long Time.

And Yet She Could Not Forgive Herself. Even As An Adult, She Wished Only That She Could Go Back And Change Things: The Ungainly Things She’d Worn, The Insecurity She’d Felt, All The Innocent Mistakes She Made.

We Are All #humans And We All Make #mistakes. We #hurt People Even If We Don't Want To.

On The Screen I Saw Tanks Rolling Through Dusty Streets, And Fallen Buildings, And Forests Of Unfamiliar Trees Into Which East Pakistani Refugees Had Fled, Seeking Safety Over The Indian Border.