When the world looms too close and I forget that I am in it but not of it, there is a quiet place in my memory bank that I run to as fast as I can. The youngest of six daughters, I was raised Roman Catholic. Twelve years in Catholic schools. Countless masses, ceremonies, candle…
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Blink and it’s gone
At the crack of dawn, I was already driving home from the airport, wiping big mama tears from my cheeks. My eldest was headed back to Texas, his fireman gear packed efficiently per his norm. Military precision is his modus operandi. While he was getting ready to board a plane, I was heading back to…
