By Kelle Groom
On the age of fifteen, Kelle Groom chanced on that alcohol allowed her to connect to humans and discover intimacy in methods she’d by no means been in a position to adventure prior to. She begun consuming earlier than category, usually blacked out at bars, and fell into damaging relationships. At nineteen, already an out-of-control alcoholic, she was once pregnant. Accepting the heartbreaking proven fact that she used to be incapable of taking good care of her son herself, she gave him up for adoption to her aunt and uncle. They named him Tommy and took him domestic with them to Massachusetts. while he used to be 9 months outdated, the boy was once clinically determined with leukemia—but Kelle’s mom and dad, short of the easiest for her, saved her quite often at midnight approximately his healthiness. whilst Tommy died he was once merely fourteen months previous. Having misplaced him irretrievably, Kelle went into an accelerating downward spiral of self-destruction. She emerged from this loose fall purely while her wish to cease ingesting attached her with those that helped her to get sober. In stirring, hypnotic prose, I Wore the sea within the form of a lady explores the main painful facets of Kelle’s habit and loss with unflinching honesty and ambitious decision. pressing and very important, beautiful and uncooked, her tale is as a lot approximately maternal love because it is set survival, as a lot approximately reputation because it is set forgiveness. Kelle’s eager for her son is still twenty-five years after his demise. it truly is an soreness intensified, as she misplaced him twice—first to adoption after which to melanoma. during this inspiring portrait of redemption, Kelle charts the adventure that led her to simply accept her habit and grief and to benefit tips to dwell on the earth. via her family’s background and the tale of her son’s melanoma, Kelle strains with readability and breathtaking grace the forces that form a existence, a demise, and a literary voice.
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Additional info for I Wore the Ocean in the Shape of a Girl: A Memoir
I hide my cup on the toilet tank in the bathroom. Then go back in there to drink it, secretly. I get tired of him, the dreary room—I want to go out. But there’s no way. It’s definitely not fun having a drink. My sobriety so new, I don’t even have a sense yet of what I’ve lost. As if the disease itself is buffering me. My drinking doesn’t feel calamitous, but I’m unmoored. My mom plans my wedding. She buys me a white dress. We select wedding invitations bumpy with engraving, mail them out. Restaurant booked for the rehearsal dinner.
At the top of the stairs is the bathroom, and to the right, a glass-fronted office where Mrs. Collins, a former beauty queen who’d gained an enormous amount of weight sits under her white gold crown of hair, braided and wound in a tower. From this height, she would look down on not only the storeroom but the entire store, even the customers pushing the glass door open. Her breasts are so large they are like a shelf for figurines. ” Within the dream, I see she’s not there, the glass empty. It must be a weekend.
I’d bleed lifting them. I wasn’t myself yet. I’d come back to work after a couple of weeks, too soon. The regulars keep asking me questions. Asking for pictures. I don’t even know at what age a baby starts to walk. To eat solid food. To talk. In line at the grocery store, a man behind me watched me open my wallet, saw the one photo I had of my son. ” There was no way to tell the customers, the extra tippers, the man in line behind me, that I’d given my son away to relatives, that he was very, very sick, and that I was not there for him.