When I bounced on my great-grandmother’s knee as a 1-year-old, she told me about the legend. She repeated it often; by the time I was 5, the story trickled into my psyche.
At that age, magic is still possible, so the idea that every 100 years a magical snowflake grants a wish to the person who finds it became fact in my mind. Continue reading
I didn’t think she’d agree to it – my granddaughter. Months earlier I endured facial surgery to remove what we thought was an unexpected birthmark, which instead turned out to be skin cancer.
Originally 16-year-old Sophie told me my ‘birthmark’ was cute. “Looks like a heart, Madre,” she exclaimed, even though it was centered on my nose. After the surgeon removed the “heart” and the cancer was eradicated, I joked with Sophie, “Well, I guess we’ll just have to get a tattoo of a heart – you and me.” Continue reading
My grandmother, Nanny, died when I was 5, but I loved her with all my young heart. Even as a kindergartener, I could tell she was a gentle, kind, sweet, loving soul.
Since she died, I’ve talked to her in my head every so often, but she’s never visited me in my dreams. So, imagine my surprise when I wake up from a dream at four this morning with Nanny speaking urgently to me: “It’s behind the backyard at 525 Cramston. Go!” Continue reading
I peer down at Hank as I pet the top of his soft brown head while wondering, why had I never noticed this anomaly before? Continue reading
The book lay unopened for centuries. Julie didn’t know that, of course, when she clambered up Auntie Murphy’s attic steps to see how bad it was going to be.
Auntie’s will had been read just yesterday, and she’d left Julie everything in her 180-year-old house – the house she’d lived in, as well as her mother, and her grandmother, and her ….
When the attic door above Julie creaked open, she released a nervous exhale. Continue reading
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