“The returns are many and never monetary.”
…and now I write this blog. Here I share my thoughts about topics that hide behind the links in the left sidebar.
My book, Tea with Dad, Finding Myself in My Father’s Life (Green Place Books) comes out June 1, 2021. Check your local independent bookstore. You can also preorder it at Bookshop.org, Indiebound.org, Amazon.com, or Barnesandnoble.com. These links will take you right to the information about the book on those sites.
I’m glad you dropped by. Get to know me. Let me get to know you. I hope this visit won’t be your last.
“…as sad and as painful as it is to lose someone, caring for them at the end of their life is a gift to give them and to have had the experience of giving.”
“…I knew I was missing important things about Dad’s last Thanksgiving. It seemed vital to me to remember, especially on this first major holiday without him.”
“I’ve been trying to remember last Thanksgiving. I can’t. Not a bit of it. And I’m not sure why. I remember all the others.”
“Let’s wait and see what happens, Dad.” Then I added, “You can’t go anywhere right now. I don’t have a plan B.”
Six years later—after spending those years extensively researching and interviewing family members, friends, former students, anyone who could help a reader know Alice Davis, Stephanie L. Fowler, determined that her dear teacher, mentor, and friend—would be remembered for more than her worst day, published "Chasing Alice."
Jane Little Botkin’s second book, The Girl Who Dared to Defy: Jane Street and the Rebel Maids of Denver, embodies the same impeccable research, character-driven narratives, and sense of time and place she provided to readers in “Frank Little and the IWW.”
The other day Dad asked if we could have a cup of tea. I realized that even our 3:00 tea sessions had become irregular. “I guess now that you have the book, we won’t have tea?” he teased.
I received my book cover proof and signed off on it. All done. Then I printed a copy of the spread and folded it as though wrapping it around my memoir's pages, so it looked like a book.
That week Mother Nature seemed to have tossed her testy toddler, February, out to let spring in early, but back it came.
I look for prompts. Then find seventeen syllables to describe what I see or what I’m feeling.
The impeachment managers did such a wonderful job. They presented the evidence. They were articulate. They were intelligent. They gave us words that will live in our hearts, minds, and history. They were humans like us. Not just talking heads in suits. Not ventriloquist dummies spouting political party rhetoric.
What does a book about the Pilgrims and the natives they confronted have to do with a memoir about a daughter and her father living together again in late life?