When I was a child and we visited my grandparents, I knew their standard of living was different from ours.
It would be, I decided, a nice gesture of Southern thoughtfulness if I made a dish of my famous macaroni and cheese.
It is now that I have reached the age where the wiser generation, those who taught me and mentored me, are starting to take their leave of this world. And now I search both their lives and deaths for lessons.
From the moment Tink visited the Mississippi Delta, he began to long for a seersucker suit.
While studying for a degree in journalism, I learned the basics of telling a good story and answering questions before they could be asked.
The little house in which I was privileged to be raised - the same one I wrote of recently - needed its annual deep cleaning.
It was with remarkable bravery that Daddy plunked down $1,000 of hard earned, long saved money in 1956 to buy a few acres of pasture with a large, tree-shaded creek that twisted through it.
Two Bibles sit, always untouched, on the fireplace mantle in our living room.
When we decided to visit the few remaining members of Tink's family who live in Connecticut and New York, we chose to drive.
It was about 1 a.m. when our alarm system woke me up with the beeping sound that it makes when one of the exterior doors is opened. The beep was coming from the front door.
When he asked, I answered. Then I laughed.
As the years of Mama's life grew long into the shadows of age, she managed to squeeze every bit of good out of growing old.
The despair in their eyes haunts me still. The dullness of emotion and deadness of spirit shall remain forever embedded in my memory.
It happened, I suppose, when I was in the fourth grade. That is my first strong recollection of the unfairness of life.
Over the course of many years, I have spent a lot of time in hospital waiting rooms, hoping for good news and dreading the bad at the same time.
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A while back, we were in Canada for a movie filming there.
When I was approaching 7 years old and about to wrap up the first grade, I reigned as the No. 1 reader of books as ...
In the months before we married, I showed Tink the Southern mountains of my raising.
It was time for spring cleaning around the Rondarosa, which seems to always start with a ton of limbs, twigs and branches that have fallen ...
A while back, a Los Angeles-based producer approached Tink and me to gage our potential interest in writing a historical mini-series about the life of ...
When I was 4, Mama's uncle, a kind and successful man, died.
History's full of people who made a difference, took a stand or voiced an opinion against injustice when it cost them plenty. Either it ...
A few years ago when I had a new book releasing about Southern women, the publisher asked me to speak at a conference for owners ...
On a Sunday morning, I was tucked into bed on the island of St. Simons. This place is where I, at the age of 13 ...
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