At My Father’s Ceremony They Said I Could Not Do Anything Right Until I Walked In And Smiled

beds were tidy and impersonal, maintained like a public park rather than a private life.

But along the south fence, barely visible under the ornamental shrubs Evelyn had chosen, I found them.

Three azalea bushes, cut back to almost nothing, but not dead. The root systems had survived. They were putting up new growth in the small stubborn way of plants continue reading …