When I was a child, my father greeted the morning far earlier than the rest of the family. Being a farmer at heart, he’d get up before the sun peeked through the distant tree line, make himself a toasted velveeta and mustard sandwich, and quietly slip out the back door undetected. I was used to…… Continue reading Small gestures
Let’s play the game, “Never have I ever”… Never have I ever visited a gravesite on a yearly basis. At 53 years-old I have never visited the gravesite of a loved one on a yearly basis. Why not? It’s a fair question and I’ll give you three answers. For starters, although my parents could have…… Continue reading Lost Tradition
Two small salmon swivel rockers sat in front of the family room window. For the last ten years of her life, I took up residence in one of those chairs, listening intently as she reminisced about the past and asking questions about her youth. That swivel seat afforded me time to know her not only as my grandmother, but as a…… Continue reading Front row seat
We were sitting near the electric fireplace in the lobby. I had pulled a chair close to his wheelchair. I opened the newspaper that he encouraged me to take home and read because, “there’s a lot of good stuff in there,” and found an interesting article about an artist who uses old wine barrels to make…… Continue reading A Few Quiet Minutes
Pretty Mama Cares 