Ernest Hemingway, born 115 years ago today, shoots his cat – moving short read.
Where my father was tentative and gentle,” Chast writes, “she was critical and uncompromising.” And: “Even though I knew he couldn’t really defend me against my mother’s rages, I sensed that at least he felt some sympathy, and that he liked me as a person, not just because I was his daughter.”
New Yorker cartoonist Roz Chast's remarkable, raw, relatable memoir of her parents’ aging, illness, and death is nothing short of a masterpiece.
I love love love Roz Chast.
—Carl Jung (via onlinecounsellingcollege)
That’s how it’s turning out, yes.