The Golden Years

My parents divorced when I was about a year or so old. Then, they remarried and divorced again by the time I was 3. My father obtained custody of me.

The only memory I retained of my mother is this: I am at the kitchen table with one or two other children. An older woman (my grandmother?) is at the sink. My mother is leaving out the back door (which was in the kitchen) and waving “bye, bye”. I clung to this memory my entire life. Now, I have new memories of my mother and this one is not so desperate any more.