“Dad… My Back Hurts So Bad I Can’t Sleep. Mom Told Me Not to Tell You.” I Had Just Walked In From a Business Trip
I replied:
Come home early.
She sent:
Trauma humor is hereditary.
I laughed.
Then sat quietly for a while.
That eight-year-old girl had once watched the front door hoping I might arrive before something else happened.
Now she moved freely through airports.
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