Rainy Day; Old Photos in Basement Boxes

I wish I knew more about my Mother’s childhood or even youth. Except for a few isolated glimpses, she seemed defined by two great tragedies: her father abandoned the family when she was small and her fist husband was killed in a dreadful freak accident. If I come across photos of her as a beautiful young woman I sometimes hear her voice telling me stories about those days … stories I know I’m making up in my head. She was born 106 years ago.

Leave a Reply

Fill in your details below or click an icon to log in:

WordPress.com Logo

You are commenting using your WordPress.com account. Log Out / Change )

Twitter picture

You are commenting using your Twitter account. Log Out / Change )

Facebook photo

You are commenting using your Facebook account. Log Out / Change )

Google+ photo

You are commenting using your Google+ account. Log Out / Change )

Connecting to %s