Author: Meg Bernhard

The last time I saw my grandfather, he did not remember me. It was November two years ago and we were in Dallas. When my mother drove us from the airport, the brightness and flatness of most things disoriented me. The light was nearly white, the sky a single shade of blue. In the car,…

“It’s not like there’s a textbook or some guidebook that teaches you how to behave or how to react when your husband becomes an exile.”