In Memory of “Where were you…?”
**I heard it from my grandmother—the question of her day: Where were you on the attack of Pearl Harbor?
**I heard it from my grandmother—the question of her day: Where were you on the attack of Pearl Harbor?
I ran into a friend today, and I started to cry. No, I didn’t actually run into her—just the figurative collision. But the crying was
originally written for my “Family Time” Column in Fountain of Life Magazine, Jan/Feb 2016 It seems we are a people who love new beginnings. Turning over a
It was a moment to cherish. There I sat in her living room watching this precious woman, my grandmother-in-law, play her special version of patty-cake
Kids: they’re kind of my thing. Babies, toddlers,… middle school, high school, college… you get the picture. As a mom, as a teacher, it’s been
In honor of Mother’s Day,here’s a post for the other 364 days… [Originally written and published in my Kenosha News “My Turn” column] I don’t think
They looked at me like I’d killed their grandma. Or at least stolen their candy. In truth, I’d tried to save them from the machine
I write to Josh Groban. No, not like sending him letters in the mail. Like playing his songs while I type. His music demands something.
I’ll never forget the look on her face. I was five, and we were on a school field trip, an Easter party at a park.
Subscribe for a free pdf copy of my award-winning narrative poem, Always Lovingly.
PLUS, you’ll get notices directly to your inbox so you’ll never miss new posts or stories!
Like what you’re reading here?
Why not share it?
Like what you’re reading here? Why not share it?