LAST DROP: ON WINE AND GRIEF
Nov 10, 2020
1 minute
I remember taking my first sip of wine (or pinard, as they call it in his native northern France) from his glass as a little girl.
here are so many pieces of myself that I owe to my dad. He was to drink along the way. I remember the wines he would bring back from his work trips, usually Bordeaux.
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