It’s day 543, the last day of the writing project I have been doing in honor of Roger. I didn’t plan anything for it, no ideas to write about or a grand finale with patriotic banners and Walmart champagne. I thought about copying down his own penned words from a letter or something, but that seemed cliché. Although I didn’t plan anything special for this day, the universe did, and it began with a ripple. I wanted it to be holistic and that’s what happened. Maybe Roger had something to do with it, but I doubt it. He’s never been one to linger in the limelight, to manipulate, to talk loudly.
Continue reading “We Ripple. Day 543.”
Teresa Forester Adams 