My great-Uncle Carl died this past week. In so many ways, I barely knew him. All my life I’ve heard stories of Charlotte, his wife and my grandmother’s younger sister, but there haven’t been too many about him and my memories are few. I remember mornings at Lloyds for coffee, every time we came to…
Disclaimer: No actual pirates were harmed in the taking of these photographs. “Mooooom!!” I clumped over toward the house, frustration steaming out of every pour. “Tasha, stop whining,” Mom said as she turned toward me. It was her standard reply so I didn’t worry too much about it. I was dragging Lilly with me. My…
I don’t remember if it was the way the wind blew the salt water, or the way the mountains towered, or the warm embraces of long-missed friends– but when I stood on Bishop’s beach in Homer, Alaska, that spring morning in 2002, I felt like I had come home. I had returned to my childhood…
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::The Haitian Chronicles:: Our first few days were filled with visitors. They were pillars of memories. The evidence that the seven months we slaved through Creole lessons and extreme heat and the lack of privacy were not wasted. Jelnor and his wife showed up with smiles and hugs and key limes and eggs. “Ze” is egg in…
Two tiny girls are standing on the bench, fingers touching ornaments. “This one, Auntie Tashe,” the oldest holds up an embroidered square, “what’s this one?” “That one is from Alaska,” I explain, tracing the bright pink fireweed. “You were in Alaska?” Her voice is incredulous. She spent almost a third of her life in the…
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