My Cardboard Balcony

Dear Margaret by Belinda Roddie Dear Margaret, I'm writing this to you because I feel the obligation to. I never knew you once in my whole life - you were gone after Dad took Mom as wife. I see the photographs of you, all cheer, with loved ones, friends, and family. And here I am with my emotions raw and blue, writing, trying to get a sense of you. I hear the stories about you - your smile, your compassion, your love, and all the while, all I can do is try to imagine what it'd be like if you'd my grandma been. I feel the connection - it's tried and true. I wear your ring. Margaret, I love you.

"Nothing up my sleeve..." "Really, Max? Really?" Maxine looked rather adorably goofy in her father's long coat and his big old floppy top hat. The tiny fourteen-year-old was waving a deck of cards in her brother's face, while I hid my laughter behind my teeth. "Pick a card, any card," she said. "I'll pick one," I tried to whisper, but the words couldn't come out.