My memory bank is overflowing with happy childhood recollections of the summer season.  Steeped in rich tradition, picnics were celebrated with enthusiasm, good food, and lots of family. There was a peacefulness that surrounded each gathering, a contentment that made you feel good to be a part of a family that had such a great…

It was a warm, Saturday morning in the summer of 1962. I sat at the kitchen table as a happy, flat-breasted twelve-year-old, eating pancakes with my family, and talking about the imminent arrival of my California cousins.  I was ecstatic.  Later in the day, we planned to gather for a mini family reunion, and a…

She slipped quietly from her bed and dressed in the pre-dawn darkness, her fingers fumbling with the small buttons on the waistband of her blue, handmade skirt.  Never before had she experienced such a myriad of emotions; excitement, fear, happiness, uncertainty.  Today, her life would change forever. In just a few hours, she and her…

My mother loved to read, and I was often the happy recipient of her uncanny ability to bring a story to life. I would sit comfortably on her lap or plopped cross-legged on the floor in front of her chair to be whisked away to a faraway magical land. The Velveteen Rabbit. I was completely…

I took a peaceful stroll through my neighborhood and by my childhood home for what I thought would be a lighthearted trip down memory lane. Needless to say, I was heartbroken to see that a construction team was busy tearing down walls and rearranging the lot. My look of dismay obviously didn’t go unnoticed, and one of…

The old house was nothing at all like what she had described to me through the years. From her vivid recollections, I saw in my mind a lovely, well-kept home with spacious rooms and beautiful furnishings. According to her, it was a glorious place that remained alive with the laughter of children and happy conversation around the kitchen…

In retrospect, I should have gone with my intuition and declined her request for a special favor.  Grandma Milburn was a sweet little lady in the church and it was always difficult for me to refuse her. Of course, Grandma knew that. Grandma had a green parakeet named Frosty.  He was an arrogant bird, prattling…

We relaxed in our comfy chairs and enjoyed a second cup of coffee together, my 88-year-old Mama and I. Without much notice, she looked over the rim of her cup, and stated with purpose, “Let’s you and I take a little trip upstairs.” Her soft blue eyes twinkled at the thought of a trek to…