Tony Woodlief | Author

Memory

Tonight is the night my little girl died. Soon we’ll be on the hour, and then it will have been six years, yet sometimes it feels like it has only just happened. If I concentrate I can still see her, and smell her, and hear her voice. But I can’t hold her. How I wish that I could hold her again.

I don’t know why I’m writing this, for it seems that there aren’t any words or tears left. I guess I worry that somehow she’ll think I’ve forgotten her.

I remember you every day, Caroline. We all do, and we miss you so.

On Key

Related Posts

And another thing

Some of you may enjoy my radical suggestion in today’s Wall Street Journal that the First Amendment doesn’t authorize teachers to indoctrinate children. It’s getting

Some more things

Well, it’s been a hell of a summer. Pestilence, economic destruction, bitter partisanship, and now, the politicians descend from their lairs to commence the quadrennial

A few things

I’ve published a few things over the past few days that perhaps you’ll like: This is about a largely forgotten Oklahoma curmudgeon who foretold both

Politics

Fiction

Parenting

Appearances

Politics

Fiction

Parenting

Appearances