Imagine a happy little girl with dark curly hair following a tall, gangly man around the family farm. He wore a pair of baggy overalls and had a cigar resting in the corner of his mouth. Her footsteps followed right in his shadow. An image fit for a painting, if I had the talent. The little girl was my mom, and the tall, gangly man was her dad. She told me how, as a child, she was his little shadow. … Continue reading →