I was cleaning out a closet in my house when I pulled out a tub of crocheted items and felt a lump lodge in my throat. My father—who would have turned 70 this week but succumbed to pancreatic cancer in 2004—had made the items for me and my daughters during my...
I stood in the dark at the end of New Years–the pop and fizz of fireworks long gone–hugging the crocheted blanket and sobbing for my daddy.My father’s been dead for more than six years. Cancer. And while I don’t think of him everyday because quite frankly...
