Pandemic Memory #4

Dina McQueen Mama love, Pandemic musings, Quarantine writing

Christmas, 1968 It’s Christmas as I watch my brothers, two older, one younger, follow my father out the front door in their fancies. They’re leaving my mother and me home, heading to Chicago to spend the evening at Aunt Mary and Uncle Murray’s, where a ceiling high Christmas tree salutes guests as they enter the apartment from the carpeted hallway …

Dina McQueenPandemic Memory #4