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Family memories are composed of the five senses |
| If I could choose my family, I’d choose as my grandmother the savor of homemade pumpkin pie on a cool Thanksgiving day. What sense becomes grandfather if I could choose my family, the aroma of Prince Albert smoking tobacco in summer. My father carols echoing, on a snowy Christmas morning, if I could choose my family, as my mother I’d choose dawn’s light. For sisters, brothers, and cousins I’d choose the gentle touch of a hand in a game of “Tag, You’re it!†If I could choose my family. |