In the midst of preparing for Shleisel to have her baby, I received a facebook message from a girl I’d known in middle school: “I’m so sorry to hear about your house. My Dad said we have an extra turkey if your family needs one this Christmas.” I had no idea what that meant—I was living on a couch, I didn’t have a house. I also didn’t have a cell phone, which meant I couldn’t call anyone to find out what she was talking about. Instead, I googled the address of my childhood home, where my parents—whom I hadn’t talked to in 6 years—were still living. Apparently it’d burned down the day before. [Read more…]
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