A Letter to My Sister
By Betsy Querna Cliff
I remember when you told us. “I think I’m an alcoholic,” your email said. You were in college, studying abroad and scared. I was thousands of miles from you, in graduate school. I had, that night, been working in the school’s computer lab, only a few weeks away from earning a master’s degree and enamored with a new boyfriend, new job and new life. With that email, I wondered if it was all about to come crashing down.