Grandma Cries Alone in the Dark
Why Grandma cries when the lights go out When I was young, I remember one winter day when my mother came home in tears. I was sitting on the porch waiting for her, wearing a brown doeskin jacket she had made for me the winter before. There was a dogwood tree in our front yard, and I could hear the dead leaves hanging from its limbs rustling in the easterly breeze. I heard the familiar sewing machine drone of my mother’s brown Pinto station wagon as it approached from the direction of...