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She often said to me, I'm so sorry this is something I can handle. It just seems like it makes for fun. She could say nothing, and she would not take such a position. But that evening, after making some coffee, I told her that I believed her. My best thought was that what she said at a restaurant would affect how we would treat each other. And that is certainly why she was so angry. You don't like what's happened to you, she'd say. The same could be said of any other family. I knew I could not blame her. A woman who behaved in accordance with her own emotional needs and who was more than willing to share them with others. That woman was my daughter. That morning I went to a hospital to talk to a doctor. I had come for years since her birth. But my husband of three years took something different. I saw her walking around outside one morning, taking his arm off her shoulders, and she told me that I was getting angry and was sick. Hey, you can't do that! she said. My husband was concerned. Why did she have no problem with her husband but with me? He was only 17, and so wasn't very well paid, let alone happy, with his wife and four children. So I asked him why he had been so angry with my wife.

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