Posts by Saloma Furlong

“Sarah” and “Jacob” did get married and lived on his family’s farm in a small building for the first few years of their marriage. Their first child was born less than a year later. Her name was Katie. She was only two years younger than her Aunt “Mary.” My grandparents moved to a farm on…

Days turned into weeks and then into months. Sarah looked out at the windmill on the hill above the barn and watched it turn around and around as she did the dishes. Her life was like the windmill, turning in circles, yet staying in the same place.                  It will be at least eight…

The morning after the funeral, Sarah stared straight ahead, through the bars of the empty crib in the morning light. It had been moved to her room after her mother became ill. She had thought nothing would be as hard as losing her mother. She remembered the day before when Aunt Amanda had said, “I’d…

“Influenza,” the doctor said as he snapped his satchel shut. “Has she been caring for someone who was sick?” he asked Sarah.   “No.”   “Has anyone else gotten sick in this house?”   “No.”   “Good. You need to keep the little ones out of the bedroom. This flu is the one that came…

The next morning Sarah’s mother didn’t feel well. She called Sarah to her bedroom to give her instructions for the day. After breakfast Sarah took a piece of toast and a cup of tea in to her mother. The four school children were walking up the hill towards the school. Baby Mary was playing on…

Sarah’s mind came back to the basket of wet clothes waiting to be hung on the line. She hung the dishtowels together, then the underclothes and socks. She remembered the conversation with Aunt Martha several days after that first date. Sarah was peeling potatoes and Aunt Martha was frying chicken. Martha asked, “How was your…

The diapers flapped in the wind as Sarah pinned the corners to the clothesline. She looked up at the white cotton clouds in the bright blue March sky and took a deep breath. What a nice wash day, she thought. Sarah remembered the day several months before when she was hanging out sheets at her…

The life of the dead is placed in the memory of the living. ~ Cicero   About fifteen years ago, I became interested in what the cause of my great-grandmother's death was. (This was my maternal grandmother's mother). I knew only a very few details — that she had died when my grandmother was not…