Our intoxicated mother had marched the three of us out into what passed for a living room in the cardboard and tarpaper shack we were existing in on the edge of Nowhere, New Hampshire. She assembled us like an audience on the broken yellow sofa, and said, 'I'm going to kill myself now, and it's all your father's fault.'
"After the dramatic announcement, and once sure we were all looking at the tragedy playing out before us, she took a bottle of sleeping pills out of her purse, and swallowed the entire contents, using vodka as the lubricant." --excerpt from page 44
Through determination, a deep faith in God, and belief in himself, Douglas MacKinnon has taken the pains of his childhood and turned them into the fuel of compassion. Through his words, you can do the same.
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February 28, 2012
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