I Am So Sorry, Rosie. (

Please excuse the offensive word used in context in this story.

Rosie was beautiful, the first black woman I ever knew.Β Β She tolerated my stroking her creamy, caramel-colored legs as she washed dishes or ironed.Β Her crisply starched cotton housedresses smelled just like sunshine.Β  Normally, I trailed my mother, but on the days Rosie was there, she couldn’t stop suddenly without my bumping her.Β  Rosie ate standing Continue reading