He Mocked Me at My 30th Birthday — But I Had House Keys in My Pocket and a Secret He’d Buried for Years

and lilies. That’s what I remember most — how everyone kept bringing food nobody ate and flowers that made me sneeze. My mom, Helen Lawson, had fought ovarian cancer for fourteen months. She lost on a Tuesday in March. She was 54.

The funeral was packed. My father, Gerald, sat in the front pew shaking hands like a mayor at a ribbon cutting. He cried continue reading …