SIPS OF WINE FROM THE GRAPEVINE HOLLY JOLLY HOLIDAYS!
A PUBLICATION OF TELL-IT-TO-THE-WORLD MARKETING SERVICES
BY PATTY L. FLETCHER
DECEMBER 19, 2023
OMG! I couldn’t wait until Thursday to begin the Sips of Wine Holly Jolly Holiday posts.
The poem Abbie shares today, tops anything I’ve read so far this week and no matter what comes next, this is my Favorite Link of the week.
If you’ve a favorite link, send it to me. You might see it here.
In the meantime, here’s Abbie’s poem.
Abbie Johnson Taylor is a sponsor of TTW Marketing Services.
News Nuggets: New from Abbie Taylor Johnson
Why Grandma Doesn’t Know Me
By Abbie Johnson Taylor
Independently published with the help of DLD Books
Sixteen-year-old Natalie’s grandmother, suffering from dementia and confined to a wheelchair, lives in a nursing home and rarely recognizes Natalie. But one Halloween night, she tells her a shocking secret that only she and Natalie’s mother know. Natalie is the product of a one-night stand between her mother, who is a college English teacher, and another professor.
After some research, Natalie learns that people with dementia often have vivid memories of past events. Still not wanting to believe what her grandmother has told her, she finds her biological father online. The resemblance between them is undeniable. Not knowing what else to do, she shows his photo and website to her parents.
Natalie realizes she has some growing up to do. Scared and confused, she reaches out to her biological father, and they start corresponding.
Her younger sister, Sarah, senses their parents’ marital difficulties. At Thanksgiving, when she has an opportunity to see Santa Claus, she asks him to bring them together again. Can the jolly old elf grant her request?
Excerpt from Chapter 1
I hated walking with my mom and sister down that long, bright hallway in the nursing home where my grandma lived. The white tile floor and the ceiling covered with fluorescent lights reminded me of school. The only difference was that there were handrails on either side that old people could hold onto while they walked, so they wouldn’t fall.
The blare of television sets from just about every room we passed, laughter and chatter from the nurses’ station, and announcements over the PA system made me wonder why Dad called this place a rest home. The sharp aroma of disinfectant reminded me of the monthly trips I’d made to the dentist years before to have my braces adjusted. I nearly gagged as I remembered the goop they put in my mouth so they could take impressions of my teeth before the braces were put on.
Photo Description provided by Two Pentacles Publishing: http://www.twopentacles.com