Red's Wrap

On a night when what’s going on in the world seems like an episode of 24, I am sitting at the small round table in our second floor room at the 1950’s era motel in the Florida Keys where we’ve stayed more than twenty times in the thirty years we’ve been married and where my husband came with his family for all the years he was growing up. When he was a kid, he broke his arm falling off the roof of one of the units. That’s deep.

We used to tell this to the clerk when we checked in, thinking maybe that it would give us a special aura. We felt aura’d and still do. So much of our family history is here. In my mind’s eye, I see our older son as a 10-year old standing at the end of the dock for hours. He stood just slightly…

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