Our Mabel

gravestone

In a family full of rowdy boys, she was our little angel. Never a whimper, or complaint, she always smiled. Tiny from birth, she looked like a porcelain doll, our perfect little lady. We thought she was the answer to our prayers. We didn't realize the answer instead was, "no."

Winter flowers

dried flowers

The further I walked down the old access road, the more dilapidated the asphalt became. Tombstone-sized chunks broke off the shoulders, and deep, gaping cracks stretched like spiderwebs across the abandoned drive. At the drop-off where the blacktop finally ended, the expansive beach was reclaiming its territory. Swirls of sand, tiny dust devils of fine, … Continue reading Winter flowers