Young Aunt Carol saw you cradling the eggs from the henhouse in your apron caressing the creamy shells under the slow stream of tap water. This devoted attention, soft acts that spoke of love, were the first Carol had seen. As for me, Grandma, When I heard this story, my aching throat and stomach told me I am just like you The littlest ones that won’t stop crying are the worst. The awful fits, the whining and noise, the bawling like the dogie lambs in your back field, were all too much for you. It has been too much for […]
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