I took my family to visit my 94 year old grandmother in Columbia, Tennessee last night and today. After we ate (she’s still a great cook) and the kids went to bed, we stayed up looking through all her old photo albums.
In the process, I realized how little I knew about the family in which she grew up and about my grandfather’s family. I was able to ask questions about relatives and friends of the family.
She enjoyed the opportunity to talk about her life. I felt blessed to still have a grandmother to talk to about her life now that I’m finally old enough to care deeply about the answers she has to give.
Lift My Chin, Lord
Lift my chin, Lord,Say to me,“You are not whoYou feared to be,Not Hecate, quite,With howling sound,Torch held…
Letters
Two delightful essays in the March issue, by Nikolas Prassas (“Large Language Poetry,” March 2025) and Gary…
Spring Twilight After Penance
Let’s say you’ve just comeFrom confession. Late sunPours through the budding treesThat mark the brown creek washing Itself…