“Pob lwc.” the elder of Saint Joseph’s had wished me, after his strange warning. I presumed he meant for my first Mass to be held, as traditional, at Midnight on Christmas Eve. It went well, the service, with a fuller than expected attendance, to see the ‘new man’, I presumed.
Later, sat still in just the candle light, I sighed, thinking I’d found a final home. It was then that the Bwgan Fawr sighed too. A man of middling years, he seemed, from one of the middling centuries, but as translucent as chip paper fat.
He pointed at the great...
The day it burned down my mother locked herself in her room and wouldn't take any visitors.
"Mom, come out of there!" my little sister whined and cried for her.
"No!" "It's not fair, it's not right!" "This didn't happen, it couldn't have!"
Her memories of him, that Winter in 1973 where they sat on the front steps of the chapel and watched bikes and cars drive by... The day they got married; January 19, 1973. When they blew off the after-wedding limo to watch the snow fall, later to hitchhike to their own reception.
It was just like her,...