It is said that we are the remnants of those undefined by time and the substance of legends. Some say this with a certainty that I cannot claim as my own. Thus, I will focus on what I do know. I’m not like any I know. Most every night, I am haunted by dreams. Not my own, but the dreams of those long gone and those yet to be. While other gifts have been granted to me over the years, this one true gift has remained with me across time and space. This one true gift affords me the opportunity to share their stories through their own dreams.
One such story is that of my mother, Sarah, and her sisters Lucille, Deborah and Ruth.
THE BOOK OF
LUCILLE