Saturday, January 29, 2011
So that I sat there, in that generous house, and listened to stories, and told stories, and suggested the power of stories written down. Mr. K. stories. We all have them. Let's begin with the smile of that man. Let's begin with the beauty of his daughters.
And then I drove home through the white of this winter and prayed for solace for a woman I've always loved. A woman who, even in the midst of her great grief, insisted on grapes for her guests, on chocolate.