I never saw it coming—that I’d have a grandma who didn’t like me. And I don’t believe she ever did, at least not as long as I can remember. I have no memory of her extending kindness toward me. This puzzled me because everyone else in my life—family, friends, church—seemed to embrace me with open…
Tag: memories
A Favorite Photo of My Dad at the Sale Barn
Here is one of my favorite pictures of my dad. He is the man holding the microphone, wearing black “Barry Goldwater” glasses. He is above the ring where livestock came in one at a time and were auctioned off to local ranchers and major meat-packing companies, like Hormel or Jimmy Dean. I don’t know the…
Twirling, Mr. Nugent, and Lessons in Excellence
I wrote this a while back, but I’ve been thinking about Mr. Nugent today and wanted to share it again. After all these years, he still holds a special place in my heart. He moved on to other towns and bigger bands, leaving a lasting impact wherever he went. He passed away a few months…
A Few Glimpses of Childhood in No Particular Order
I remember: Warm pavement under my bare feet Doodle bugs tickling my arms Train whistles in the distance My father’s biscuits and gravy My mother’s typing The smell of chlorine at the pool in summer Chicken and dumplings Incense at church Freshly mown grass My dad’s old farm truck My Uncle Doc’s café My Uncle…
Flash Memoir: Where the Love Was
I didn’t want to go to kindergarten when it was time for me to go. All my friends were going to Humpty Dumpty Play School, but I hated it. I much preferred to stay at home and play by myself or with baby Sam in our room, near Mama. I played school on my own,…
Gas heater When I was a little girl, I spent many a night curled up on the hearth in front of a gas heater, listening to the hiss of the gas and staring at the orange and blue flames. Often I could hear my dad’s snoring in his nearby bed, the rhythmic cadence that told…
20 Minutes a Day 