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A Father

A Father

Sometimes hiding away In a day’s tasks and in trusting, I live beside you unaware, When as if the pulse of blood in my veins You come so vividly into my thoughts, A gust of cool mountain air, patches of sunlight, where yesterday was clouded, cold, I realize, once...
My Pops

My Pops

It was Saturday morning, March 26, 2016, when the phone rang as I was making coffee. “Debbie,” my dad said. “I can’t find my new mattress protector.” He had just bought a new bed. I was thrilled. At eighty-six, he seemed confident he’d be around a while. And of course...
No Turning Back

No Turning Back

It’s been ten years today since my mom died. She loved Morning Buns so I bought one yesterday to have for breakfast this morning. They’re big, Todd and I share. You can peel off the layers one at a time. Fannie was begging for some. I told Todd to give her the old...
Small Things

Small Things

3:00 am. The earlier you wake the bigger the day. Moments passing. I try to catch them—like the first family gathering in over a year—and put them somewhere safe. The chairs were full but some places were empty. Those people I brought to the table inside me. The...
My Shenandoah Treasures

My Shenandoah Treasures

Seeing T scratch the old horse’s ears and then lay its head on his shoulder. watching a tiny yellow finch on the weathered farm fence one morning and seeing a bluebird the next. My son noticed the color inside the afternoon shadow. Some say bluebirds are a sign of joy...

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