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Tag Archives: Michael J. Martin
In memory everything seems to happen to music. – Tennessee Williams i As a girl, Elise loved to sing. Singing made her happy. She’d wear an old pair of her mother’s long white gloves and a flowing dress and put … Continue reading
“Learning how to live takes a whole life.”—Seneca i Little Denny Grabowski loved his father’s garage. It was an industrious place, immaculate, as clean as his mother’s gleaming chromium kitchen. Pegboard covered the far side wall where the implements—shovels, rakes … Continue reading
i Grace loved it when her mom or dad bounced her on a knee and sang her the pony-girl song, or when she was monkey-in-the-middle and they took her hands and called one-two-three jump! and on jump! they lifted her … Continue reading
i Herbert loved the backyard of his house. The house itself was modest, a two-bedroom bungalow in the Tahoe Park neighborhood of Sacramento, but the yard ran deep, all the way back to the neighbor’s fruit trees. Beside his mother’s … Continue reading
i Frannie loved her family’s farm. On a winter morning she loved the pink dawn sky and the warmth of the dairy barn, the sweet smell of the hay and the cows and their milk. She helped her dad with his … Continue reading
Cap loved the game of basketball. His earliest memories recalled climbing up to his father’s lap to watch games together on the television. He always remembered the warmth of that perch and its sure sense of safety. His father would … Continue reading