Tidings from the Other Side
I am the keeper of a family memory. Its details are blurry and its edges curled, but I hold it close, like a pocketworn heirloom photograph.
My grandmother is 6. She is playing on the living room floor at her home in Kimberly, Wisconsin. Her mother is in the cellar, washing clothes, when something overcomes her. A vision of her son – a panic, a premonition – sends her rushing up the stairs, certain that her heart has broken.
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March 5, 2019
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