father

Grip

A short story by Kerry Nenn (Original posting: 5/19/14; Revised 5/19/21) Dedicated to Edward Lee Jones 11/14/43 – 5/19/10 He had laced up his shoes extra tight that morning. When you work hundreds of stories up, sure footing is essential. Double-knotted bows ensure no tripping hazards. Right now he wished he had not done so.Continue reading “Grip”

Whatcha doin’ in heaven today?

Are you sitting on the front steps of a house with many rooms? Singing Swaggart’s songs, all his melodies of old? Plucking on a guitar that’s never out of tune? Maybe you’re driving a classic car up and down heaven’s golden strip. One that never needs repairs since everything is always new. Do you drink iceContinue reading “Whatcha doin’ in heaven today?”

Grip

A short story by Kerry Nenn Dedicated to Edward Lee Jones 11/14/43 – 5/19/10 He had laced up his shoes extra tight that morning. When you work hundreds of stories up, sure footing is essential. Double-knotted bows ensure no tripping hazards. Right now he wished he had not done so. If they were just aContinue reading “Grip”

Legacy

Remembering my dad today. Edward Lee Jones, 11/14/43 – 5/19/10 You taught me to pray when I was sick. You taught me to always have an open door. You taught me that I am loveable. You taught me how to make do with what I have. You taught me how to hug. You taught me toContinue reading “Legacy”