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      August 8, 2019Recycling the Travel SectionElizabeth S. Wolf

      My family always read the newspaper.
      When we sat for dinner—6:30 every
      weeknight—you better know your news.
      Sunday papers were a special treat.
       
      For years after the secret was spilled
      my mother separated the Travel section
      from the Boston Sunday Globe and sent it
      unread to recycling. If she had known, she said,
      she would have traveled. With her children.
      My mother loved London and always
      wanted to return. You can’t get that back.
       
      And all that time estranged
      from her children, fighting her own
      decline. Some things can’t be fixed.
      Splintery shards remain, like the glasses
      that slipped from her numb hands onto
      cold hard floor.
       
      Ma, if you’re still listening: I have taken
      my daughter to the ends of the earth.
      California. London. Aruba. India. We saw
      sunrise at the Taj Mahal. We have hiked
      in the Amazon rainforest, and on top
      of the Great Wall of China.
       
      Ma, if you still care: I carry a piece of your
      jewelry with us, wherever we go.

      from Did You Know?

      Elizabeth S. Wolf

      “I write because telling stories is how we make sense of our world, how we connect with our world, how we heal, and how we celebrate. I write to find the sliver of truth within the plethora of information; mining my monkey mind for a trace of grace.”