Ten Memories of My Father

Image by Mabel Amber from Pixabay

A story of finding one’s way back from the dark corners of loss.

I love the taste of beets, sweet and soaked in memories. I travel in time to rediscover lost thoughts about my father.

I’m three years old. My father looks like a giant, his hairy arms like pillows ready to cuddle my head. I can see him in my grandparent’s kitchen, placing me on a wooden stool in front of the sink. He smiles and…