“Sissy” has a memory. She was just little, perhaps 5-years-old. She and her brother played with building blocks Daddy had made for them. Angry voices in the kitchen captured her attention. She went to see why Mommy and Daddy were so angry. Mommy was washing dishes and crying. Daddy said something. She didn’t hear what he said. A soap-suds covered hand raised a plate, Daddy side-stepped it and it crashed against the wall, shattering. A shard of the china plate struck Sissy’s leg, cutting her...