As I stumbled along the dirt road, occasionally I would reach my hand up and slip it into that of my Grandpa Jesse’s. As an independence streak struck, I would then pull it back managing my steps all on my own at least for a few feet then I would once again find myself repeating the process.
I pushed on through the mountains, my Lumina maneuvering the curves with great accuracy. Snow lay along the roads as I watched diligently for patches of black ice on the interstate.
Have you ever realized how things seem to simply pile up?
I have just endured about four and a half weeks of reducing these piles, sheet by sheet, stack by stack, and at times it felt like word by word – junk mail, business letters, tax paperwork, newspapers, magazines?
