by Ann Lee Miller | Jul 1, 2016 | Blog, Coconut Grove FL, Just The Facts Fridays, Miami FL- Living Aboard a Sailboat, New Smyrna Beach FL, Stuart FL
I stood in a slice of sun and dust motes coming through a gap in the storage barn while Dad rooted through our pre-boat life. Dad barked at me to help him look for the box labeled “memorabilia.” He hunted the April, 1953 Athletic Journal that contained a four-page... by Ann Lee Miller | Jun 24, 2016 | Ashland OH, Blog, Just The Facts Fridays, New Smyrna Beach FL
The fairytale ending I’d hoped would happen between me and Dad—didn’t. I matured. Dad mellowed into middle age. But we still muddled through life in the emotional ruts we’d laid down long ago. The only thing that shifted in my teens was the balance of power. While I’d... by Ann Lee Miller | Jun 17, 2016 | Blog, Just The Facts Fridays, New Smyrna Beach FL
I pedaled after Dad, each downward push of my legs drawing me closer to meeting his wacko friends. Overhead a storm brewed. With my luck, I’d be soaked before I ever hit their house, much less swim practice later. Mom said Dad wanted to show me off to his friends.... by Ann Lee Miller | Jun 10, 2016 | Blog, Just The Facts Fridays, New Smyrna Beach FL
When I came up for air at the end of the last fifty yard sprint, my nemesis, Celeste, said, “Who’s that old hippie?” I peered at the far end of the pool thirty yards away where the girls in my lane stared. Dad. Stringy, dark blond hair fell on his shoulders as he... by Ann Lee Miller | Jun 3, 2016 | Blog, Just The Facts Fridays, New Smyrna Beach FL
I muscled through the pool, my chest heaving, as I stroked for the tile cross on the wall where my feet would hit in a flip turn. I bent at the waist, threw my legs over my head, and pivoted as the balls of my feet hit tile. A powerful thrust from my bent knees and I... by Ann Lee Miller | Sep 25, 2015 | Blog, Florida Southern College, Florida Southern College, Just The Facts Fridays, New Smyrna Beach FL
I sat on the edge of Mom’s bed, staring, not at her, but at the palm frond that had drooped and dried over a picture frame—left over from last Palm Sunday. I focused back on Mom’s brown eyes—that held half the hazel of my own—sucked in a breath for courage. “I want to...