Showing posts from April, 2017


Yesterday, the pink walls of my sisters old bedroom whispered to me about the life we had...about what we have...and I was overwhelmed.
Friday night records played on the stereo Dad built himself from a kit.
Mom in the kitchen making hamburgers and fried potatoes.
Roller skating around the pool table.
Dad going golfing every Saturday morning.
Scuffing slippers on the carpet in order to build up static and zap each other.
Sundays with Dad lying on the living room floor watching football or baseball or basketball (and usually falling asleep and snoring).
The long gone swing set put together by Dad and Grandpa, with it's barbershop pole color scheme...white and metallic blue and metallic red.
The purple of the guest bedroom...changed from cheerful yellow after my sister moved into her pink bedroom the basement.
Dad pulling out his guitar and playing a song or two. I only know the refrain of Delta Dawn.
Staying home with a babysitter while Mom and Dad went to bowling league.
The met…