The Unforgiving Minute by Craig M Mullaney

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My mother’s family had curiosity hardwired. My grandmother would enthrall me for hours with stories from any one of a dozen cross-country trips she had taken with my grandfather. The daughter of an Irish immigrant from County Cavan and a sailor from the Dutch Caribbean, my grandmother’s stories kept me dreaming through the night and waiting for more. And whereas my father never showed any emotion, my mother and grandmother were Irish in the extreme, incapable of stemming a tear and the first to laugh at the slightest trigger. I have my mother’s tear ducts.