A long time ago I used to have a girl friend named Liz. She was a sweet girl who had the great misfortune of having lost her mother early and a father who drank. We were friends for years and she did what she could to cope. She was the woman of the house, went to school and was starting a career.
At the time I tried to tell her she was worth more than she gave herself credit for. She was selling herself short by not going to school and getting a better education. She didn't think she was smart enough, or strong enough to do it. She was a sweet girl and I didn't agree with her personal self-assessment.
I tried to get her to talk to people who could understand her situation but she balked at the idea. She coped and hopefully is continuing to cope. Hopefully she's married and with kids of her own now.
I remember being really taken aback when she told me that to help manage with everything they ate off paper plates each night so that she didn't have to deal with doing dishes. That was crazy, I thought. Now I'm starting to understand her a bit better.
Every once in a while I remember my old friend from Richmond Hill and wonder how she's doing these days.
