A Lovely Capitve
We Sing
And there we make happy, as happy can be made. We sing, well… at least I do and when my mother’s eyebrows rise I know she too is singing. The back page contains keepsakes and a daily account of kisses given, more often than not, reciprocated. After my dad’s passing it was important to me that my mother keep her muscle memory of a kiss. Nearly every night for nearly two years I ask her for a kiss and then kiss each of her cheeks. I charted her responses during the making of this collection.