That Day I see my sister — the youngest — the one who waits for me. I see her discontentment…| Legacy Book Press LLC
Accent The whispers of my childhood woods and the hills redundantly green cast a blade-sharp curse on my tongue— the…| Legacy Book Press LLC
Three months later, I wearily pulled into a motor lodge somewhere in Pennsylvania. I don’t remember the name of the…| Legacy Book Press LLC
2003 The warm Colorado sun kissed my cheeks as my boyfriend Jim and I loaded onto a chairlift. I raised…| Legacy Book Press LLC
1997 My sandals squeaked in the soft sand as I made my way across the beach toward the water-skiing cove.…| Legacy Book Press LLC
Oh, to read A Child’s Christmas in Wales over the holidays during a pandemic, with three of our four parents deceased, my 91-year-old mother-in-law in lockdown in her retirement village six hours away, and time on our hands to reminisce about our childhood Christmases, when our families were healthy and intact, and all was right with the world. How many such thoughts, such essays, has Dylan Thomas’s tender story prompted over the years? Does that make my thoughts, my essay a cliché? Mayb...| Legacy Book Press LLC