“I’ve almost made peace with the fact that we aren’t hauling our kids down to my parents in Florida for Thanksgiving.
Actually, it’s my sister Cecily I feel bad about. She’s the one I don’t keep in touch with enough. She’s 39, and — deep breath — “developmentally disabled and legally blind.” Those jargon-y words give only the barest outline of her experience of navigating the world. And my family’s experience, too.