Dad, I read a book of letters written to the Author’s mother. In it, he told stories of his mother’s life, intricately weaving spotty details into a beautiful mosaic of a tightly knit family. Bonded by trauma, grief, and the hope that they will fly when they barrel off of cliffs. I grieve a lot these days for the tiny deaths that make up my memories. Th…
© 2024 Whitney McGuire
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