Loss Series

Picture 12 of 16

After the bitter 1947 winter, warmer weather came late and sunlight returned to the garden. My sister and I camped out in the garden, as I know now to keep us out of the house, for my fathers heart had thrown another clot and he was gravely ill. In the morning my mother lifted the flap of the tent and said "Father's gone". Breakfast had an atmosphere I never knew before and I was told not to go to my fathers room.