The tie that binds the chapters of  “Too Far from the Tree”together is family –  five generations of my gene pool with me in the middle. The ties that bind my family are sometimes touching, often humorous tales, such as my mother’s legendary recycling efforts, including her egg-carton lampshades (still in existence), and my daughter’s insistence on finding out where she was before she was conceived. Others – such as the story of my Depression-era grandmother’s no-nonsense quest to get her brood of children a college education –  are peppered with personalities.

In truth,  “Too Far from the Tree” could be subtitled, “a guide book to the museum of my heart.” Some are stories of forgetting and being forgotten; some are of remembering and being surprised. The stories contain small truths or realizations that have become for me more significant with time and reflection. Writing about them has been a joyful journey back to my roots. I hope by reading them you will also find your way home.