Excerpt From A Journal Entry About My Childhood:

[Sitting in a room that is mine and only mine, I remembered all the storybooks my father has read me before bed.

“Which stories were your favorite?”

“Does your heart still remember what your child’s heart remembered?”

“Can you still taste the candies your child’s tongue tasted?”

And the simplest things make me cry.

How stories cannot be read without my father’s voice; and necklaces cannot be worn without my mother’s grace.]