Friday, March 18, 2011
My father has been looking through my mother's books—her first editions of F. Scott Fitzgerald, her signed Ulysses S. Grants, her Maxfield Parrish pages. In the midst of it all, he found this, an early gift that my mother had given to me. It was a book about kindness. Those are her words, written to me.
A reminder. And also one more sign of how dearly my father continues to carry her spirit forward.