It's right there on the return address label.  I am surprised by the emotion it evokes. I shouldn't be.  I should be used to this by now But I'm not.  Rose Bud Lane it says.  Someone lives at Rose Bud Lane.  It stirs in me that raw, yet warm memory feeling.  Mom called Clarissa, "Rose Bud". Dad called her Rag Weed.   Mom; gone now to live with Jesus.  Dad; companion with the memory thief.   Rose Bud was the perfect name.  She was rosy and sweet when she was born. I dressed her in everything pink. I treasured all ... View Post