Retrospection 1: My Madeleines

Retrospection 1: My Madeleines

Memories are not, I think, narratives we remember as much as impressions, images and sensations. In that I am in agreement with Proust. Such imprints seem, at least to me at this great distance from the events, a little arbitrary although not like events seen through...

WWI: I have so many questions…

So much of this trip has been about discovering a grandfather who was never a part of my memory.  David Sanford Cutler died suddenly from what may have been a staph infection in 1926.  His sons Calvin (my father) and David were only two and four years old...

James and the Giant Fall

The subject line of Emily’s e-mail was “James and the Giant Fall.” The funny headline all but trumpeted the reassuring news contained in the note. James is the sixth of my mother’s grandchildren. A gangly, bearded boy, he is a lover of wild places and high elevations....

Endings

There are two snowy clematis on the fence that guards the edge of the retaining wall, twin blossoms turning their faces toward the sky. They caught me somewhat by surprise. In the spring I was thrilled by their glossy leaves and cluster of blooms waving at me. It...