He comes into the kitchen, all smiles. My boy. His ruddy complexion reminds me of my dad’s. He sits down beside me, the muscles twitching in his still-smiling cheeks. I drink in the sight…
-
-
I love my Mother’s hands. There are none like them. You could put them in a line up with a million others and I would know them. I have watched, looked for, clung to,…
-
“How did you let this happen?” My middle child was staring intently into my eyes, waiting for an answer. I couldn’t find a response immediately because I just didn’t have one. “How did you…
-
It has been a very busy week, but I have not forgotten to stop and smell the flowers. A very sweet friend brought me some unusual flowers this week, and this lovely pink Ranunculus…