Fourteen Years Later

I’ve been sidelined by the flu this week and am still recovering, and then WordPress ate my original post, so here’s just a quick (and late) note to direct you elsewhere.

Here’s what I wrote about my father (died March 14, 2003) over at Turtleduck Press:

I don’t think about him often anymore, except right around this time of year. He died in March, late in a bitterly cold prairie winter. The day he was buried, there was a thaw and, finally, everything began to melt. Ever since then, I’ve found late winter difficult to bear. Some years are harder than others; this one has been easier so far, probably because it’s been so unseasonably warm here. Bittersweet for sure.

He feels now like part of another life, one I don’t remember as well as I would wish to.

Go and read the rest.

And I’ll see you back here on March 27 with a proper post.

 

 

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