Tranquille

Mama did a lot of weeping and wailing when they took me away. She is normally a calm and collected person as you can tell by her sensible dresses, her sturdy shoes and blunt-cut bobbed hair that turned white the year after she got married. My daddy more or less forced her to be the head of the household because he was a drinker. He worked at the lumber mill down by the river but sometimes he went missing for days when he was on a binge. Mama cried when the health department sent a car to take me to the sanatorium. The doctors told her that my condition was a risk to the public and that I would be lucky to come out alive.