Dad, you are two-dimensional — a cardboard figure in my mind. For too many years I have wondered why I did not feel close to you. Desperately, I write to know you loved me. Dad and me at two years old in a Maryland snow With thin scraps of memories, I collage a quiet, respectable…
A 20th Century Gentlewoman
In our small, bright yellow kitchen, you stirred your signature onion, chili powder, ground beef, tomato, kidney bean and macaroni dish on the stove. The delicious aroma wafted my way as I perched on the washing machine a few feet away, dangling my teenaged legs and talking with you. Every day, you and I were…
The Nearness of God 