She was a newly ordained Episcopal priest. Sixteen months earlier, Tichenor’s mother, harrowed by alcoholism, had jumped from the fourth floor of a parking garage. Tichenor was living on the shores of Lake Tahoe at the time, and in her new book, The Night Lake, she describes those days with fearless specificity.īut Fritz wasn’t the only death she was grieving. Later that night, however, and without warning, Fritz died from a rare case of urosepsis. When her son Fritz was five weeks old, she took him to the doctor, but despite his inconsolable crying, the physician on duty assured her he was fine. The name lighting up your phone belongs to someone you haven’t heard from in a while, and you already know: The news is bad. Just like good news, bad news can arrive seemingly out of nowhere. You can snag a copy of the magazine here or subscribe here.įor all of the ways surprises can delight, they can also destabilize, frighten. Here is a condensed version of our interview with author and priest Liz Tichenor, from Issue 17 of The Mockingbird.
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