PLEASE CONTACT ME AT: firstname.lastname@example.org
I’ve been a resident of New England since I was seven, and a graduate of Smith College in Northampton, Massachusetts. I attended the University of Connecticut Law School and have practiced divorce law in Hartford, Connecticut for over twenty-five years.
I’ve always been interested in how people cope with pain. My own exploration of that topic began early. When I was seven, my parents died five months apart of unrelated causes. My father had been a Presbyterian Minister in Clifton, New Jersey, a suburb of Manhattan. My mother was a school teacher. A bitter custody battle pitted my maternal grandparents, Hungarian immigrants who lived close by, against my paternal aunts, whom I knew only slightly. Within the space of six weeks, all ties with my close-knit church community were benignly severed when my aunts prevailed in the legal contest, and my sister and I were carted off to a strange land called Connecticut. While my aunts and uncle were wonderful, loving people, filled with the best of intentions, my uncle had a drinking problem which created family secrets and dark corners.
As I careened gently through my twenties and thirties, I worked my way through anorexia and obsessive working. While Tell Me When It Hurts can be read literally, as the tale of a mother struggling to go on despite her daughter’s murder, the broader theme is how we all struggle to regain traction when so much is pressing us every day to skid. Intense therapy, compulsive work, angry revenge, fervent religious faith, binge drinking—all can help us get through uneven days and menacing nights. Ultimately, though, we each chose our own path, be it self-destructive or redeeming. The book is, above all, about choices, second chances, and consequences.
My other interest has been in horses. I simply love them.
Daily, I see clients in the midst of divorce. Their fear of the possible losses ahead—the loss of their children, of their money, of their homes, of their identities—is palpable. Still, their biggest fear is that love has left them and may never return. They too are seeking that traction, that ‘something’ that will block the skid. To see most of them emerge with renewed hope, with different dreams, and with a fresh path is inspiring and sustaining.
I presently live on a farm in Andover, CT in a drafty 1765 colonial house, sharing the spaces with horses, dogs, cat, and human.
Please check out my blog if you get a chance. www.theblogalsorises.com
Photos of the author by Brenda Cataldo