How uncommonly fortunate I am to have called the house pictured here home for 55 years. Somehow this simple dwelling, resting atop a hill on a quiet dead-end street, offered a home to all who swung open the back gate. Generations counted on the music of the unlocked kitchen door’s jingling sleigh bells accompanied by barks of happy dogs. Every time. Across time and place, memories stitch all of us together.
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finish line in sight / excitement for the future / keep pushing forward....
nine long trauma years / Kamala Harris rising / joy repairs our hearts