Posted in Intentional Parenting

THE MAN IN MY LITTLE GIRL’S LIFE

1966 I was 9, the year before, my Mom had found a way to convince my Dad to bring us up north to live and then she separated from him. The year would consist of him showing up drunk and unannounced, shattering glass with a bloody hand and head peering in. Mom is beaten, furniture and dishes were broken, until we moved to a house where the Dad did not tolerate violence or destruction, then mother and I settled into a brief period of calm.  

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Posted in Intentional Parenting

Homeward Bound

A mile south of town center in a sleepy town in southern Ohio, the road passes the county fairgrounds then dips forty feet or so into a valley of rich farmland. Face on, the house resembled a child’s face, two large second-story windows with metal awnings for eyelids and the front door centered for a surprised look. The porch is simple wood planks a nearly flat roof with four unturned wooden posts.

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