Tag: memoir
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Baby Barber
Image generated with AI I don’t remember shaving my sister’s legs when she was days old. I heard that story so many times growing up that I can feel my dad’s razor in my tiny hand. He was a barber, and the razor blade was double edged. The razor, thank…
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Holding Hands
Alan came to my house to pick me up and we went somewhere. The first time I held Alan’s hand I was scared, bubbly, and giddy all at once. He held my hand to the car. That’s all I remember about the date – he reached out his hand for…
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Water Wings
Water Wings “Let go,” he said. He trusted his water wings as much as he trusted me in the deep end under the lifeguard stand. I wasn’t sure I heard him right. There was so much noise around us. Splashing, water falling, kids screaming. I wasn’t sure I wanted to…

