Tonight while I talked to my grandmother via landline, I told her what I had been doing this week. Then, I decided to share one of the pieces I had written. Topic: her girdle! I could hear her laugh a little on the phone. She sounded like she needed a laugh tonight, so I proceeded to read the piece to her. We talked and laughed a little more as I continued to share some of the topics I had chosen to write about this week. She asked if I had written about my sister and the worm. I responded in the negative and immediately began to relive the whole horrible incident. Perhaps I will share it another time. Can shame and humor co-exist and be etched in our minds some 30 years later?