Marriage Story

My mother’s best friend’s son’s wedding was traditional, New England classic, and expensive: historic house, bouquet toss, garter belt, and a live band with a Black lead singer, the only Black person at the wedding. “How do you think he feels?” asked my mother.

At the end of the evening, I had to carry her 100-pound body back to the car, so she could shoot herself in the leg with insulin and cry. We drove home in semi-silence. It was the last time I would see her outside of hospice.