They Drank My Father’s Champagne and Toasted My Death. They Forgot Whose Daughter I Am

It was a description of the only way through.

I was not going to stop being afraid.

The fear was going to be there at the rail with me at midnight, in my throat, in my hands.

The trick was not to wait for it to leave.

The trick was to do the necessary thing while it stayed.

Pour out the glass while afraid.

Make the call while afraid.

Play dead while afraid.