Thomas McColloch tagged posts
It has been a strange few days in several ways.
I had gotten a letter earlier this week from the daughter of a woman I grew up with. She was a friend of my mother’s, though, over time, she became more a friend of mine.
I had visited her when we were on our honeymoon and went back to my hometown. She was Portuguese in heritage, and an artist. She and her husband owned a little junk shop in the town I grew up in, a place that we visited regularly.
She sold comics and books and I remember taking old ones in and trading them for different used books and comics.
It was in her store that I clearly remember seeing a rhinestone brooch and telling my mother how pretty it would be on a black dress.
I was all of nine or ten and I remember my mother saying, “But you don’t HAVE a black dress.”
I ...Read More