Me and Mama never did like the smell of cigarettes but after Daddy died, sometimes we would light one up and put it in his old ashtray. Today I stayed behind the man at Fletcher's and waited a little while in the cloud of smoke.
Sandi Morgan DenkersStichwörter: memories-of-daddy
This is my story.
Death tried to kill it;
Grief tried to drown it;
Pride tried to erase it;
Pain tried to hide it;
but
Deep saved it.
My story grew words while waiting in Deep and now my words have wings to fly. Lottie Johnson, age 96
Stichwörter: inspirational
It's funny how you can remember special things about a person. It's Mama's hands I remember. When I was little and she'd dress me, her hands would be all up under my chin fastnin up my shirt. I'd smell the Clorox. I hated it because it made the inside of my nose burn. She said it didn't bother her and maybe one day I'd get used to it. Sometimes now, I run a little water in the sink. Then I add some Clorox and let my hands splash around in it. And then I smell. Long, deep breaths. I smell Mama.
Sandi Morgan DenkersStichwörter: memories-of-mama
Deep is where your soul waits while you live like nothing terrible happened.
Sandi Morgan DenkersStichwörter: inspirational
There's extra suffering when someone you love dies by their own hand. The ones left breathing got to find their own way to survive and make it through living still.
Sandi Morgan DenkersStichwörter: loss-of-a-loved-one
Death is awful fierce. After it cuts those still living into little pieces, grief comes along to watch them bleed.
Sandi Morgan DenkersStichwörter: death
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