… bones and juice from the beans on the rugs and blankets, they then went to play in the front yard. We were repasting and wore different shades of blue in remembrance of her husband, who passed after resurgent cancer. Paw-Paw’s family came from all over the nation to bury him. I was the only one, though, reared above the Mason-Dixon, a wintry city boy. I thus was detached from many of the stories his extended family shared about how Paw-Paw tilled the soil.
Hal H. Harris
Your sense of storytelling is so strong I felt like I was at that repast. My mom and Aunt spent the summers going to funerals with their great grandma. Most of the relatives in the south they didn't even know, but they learned their personhood through death, and in that way they lived on.
Also, penumbra? Come thru vocabulary!!!