Reading Priestdaddy on Father's Day

I finished reading Patricia Lockwood's memoir Priestdaddy in June, the night before Father's Day. When I awoke the next morning, I realized that the book had shifted shape while I slept. A few scattered details now stood out for me from the rest, and once I allowed them to cluster, they began to look like a completely different story about fathers than the comical one I thought I'd been reading.