Hillbilly Elegy

wouldn’t show up on the screen, she told
me. “Besides, you probably didn’t know
what the hell you were doing. You didn’t
inhale, even if you tried.” Then she
addressed the morality of it. “I know this
isn’t right, honey. But she’s your mother
and she’s my daughter. And maybe, if we
help her this time, she’ll finally learn her
lesson.”
It was the eternal hope, the thing to
which I couldn’t say no. That hope drove
me to voluntarily attend those many N.A.
meetings, consume books on addiction,
and participate in Mom’s treatment to the
fullest extent that I could. It had driven
me to get in the car with her when I was
twelve, knowing that her emotional state