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MEMOIR
We Do Love a Diner
Wherever we are, my mom and I love to go to diners for breakfast. We relish the low-key ambience, the speedy service, and not least, the...
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The Hermit and the Hitchhiker
I was always my mother’s favorite. But she was never mine. Yet, when my father died at the young age of 72, everything had to change. I...
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Eight Belles
Bottles of the finest Scotch lined the oak-paneled wood walls where Dad and I sat at the bar in a bay side restaurant looking at the...
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A Sewing Circle
The moving man, stout as the load on his dolly, steered a dark wood cabinet into my mother’s apartment. He scanned the small studio,...
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