When we recall Christmas memories we tend to think about what and whom we miss, robbing ourselves of the opportunity to close our eyes and absorb a good memory. There are many people I miss from my paternal grandparents’ duplex in Easthampton, MA, but for now, I close my eyes and I am a child whose room is clean because Santa is on his way.
Continue reading “Blue Lights. Day 454.”
Teresa Forester Adams 