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Sarah Broussard Weaver spent the pandemic mastering spaetzle, white beans and rice, and roux for gumbo. Her grandmother, who turned 103 in March, was born a month after the 1918 Spanish Flu pandemic began. She lives near Pittsburgh, Pennsylvania.
The cataracts give her an otherworldly countenance, like a blind prophet who gazes more easily into the past than into the present. She is otherworldly, because she isn’t a part of this time where I dwell — not fully. She floats closer to us and then away again before we can grasp her.
September 2021Has something we published moved you? Fired you up? Did we miss the mark? We’d love to hear about it.
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