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(👆In the photo: my father and me heading into my grandmother’s house in Miami, circa 1967.)
in the safe gray zone
He died seventeen years ago today. And, as Forrest Gump said, “That’s all I have to say about that.”Â
I don’t feel sad or wistful. I’m like a wheat field, waves of beige sameness. Neutral, undisturbed, bending with the wind.
Continue reading “remembering my dad”
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