Mar 28, 2025
How to Be Reborn as a Tree
When I was 16 years old, my father’s mother, whom we called Meemaw, gave up the ghost. We all flew down to Fort Worth, where, per her wishes, my dad hosted a wake filled with live music, stiff cocktails, and loose stories. (Meemaw was, among other things, a former vaudeville performer and the sister of a legendary jazz drummer.) The...
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