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	<title>memorial Archives - Elephants Never</title>
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		<title>My Grandpa Knew Mr. Parkinson</title>
		<link>https://elephantsnever.com/my-grandpa-knew-mr-parkinson/</link>
					<comments>https://elephantsnever.com/my-grandpa-knew-mr-parkinson/#respond</comments>
		
		<dc:creator><![CDATA[Andre]]></dc:creator>
		<pubDate>Mon, 14 Oct 2019 11:00:27 +0000</pubDate>
				<category><![CDATA[Trunkated Tales]]></category>
		<category><![CDATA[bojana stojcic]]></category>
		<category><![CDATA[forget]]></category>
		<category><![CDATA[forgets]]></category>
		<category><![CDATA[funeral]]></category>
		<category><![CDATA[grandfather]]></category>
		<category><![CDATA[loss]]></category>
		<category><![CDATA[memorial]]></category>
		<category><![CDATA[memory]]></category>
		<category><![CDATA[oct 14 2019]]></category>
		<category><![CDATA[parkinson]]></category>
		<guid isPermaLink="false">https://elephantsnever.com/?p=2094</guid>

					<description><![CDATA[<p>by Bojana Stojcic “Let me help you, Grandfather,” said a voice to the old man as he stumbled walking away from the table. Grandpa nodded back, put on his hat he wore with style and, with a profound mistrust of anything new, left the room, unsure about where they had met. “Even elephants forget,” Grandpa joked. What he didn’t see <a class="read-more" href="https://elephantsnever.com/my-grandpa-knew-mr-parkinson/">Read More</a></p>
<p>The post <a href="https://elephantsnever.com/my-grandpa-knew-mr-parkinson/">My Grandpa Knew Mr. Parkinson</a> appeared first on <a href="https://elephantsnever.com">Elephants Never</a>.</p>
]]></description>
		
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		<post-id xmlns="com-wordpress:feed-additions:1">2094</post-id>	</item>
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		<title>Blueberry Waffles &#038; A Side of Poignancy</title>
		<link>https://elephantsnever.com/blueberry-waffles-a-side-of-poignancy/</link>
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		<dc:creator><![CDATA[Andre]]></dc:creator>
		<pubDate>Mon, 14 Oct 2019 11:00:26 +0000</pubDate>
				<category><![CDATA[Trunkated Tales]]></category>
		<category><![CDATA[blueberry]]></category>
		<category><![CDATA[family]]></category>
		<category><![CDATA[father]]></category>
		<category><![CDATA[grief]]></category>
		<category><![CDATA[loss]]></category>
		<category><![CDATA[love]]></category>
		<category><![CDATA[memorial]]></category>
		<category><![CDATA[neel trivedi]]></category>
		<category><![CDATA[oct 14 2019]]></category>
		<category><![CDATA[relationships]]></category>
		<category><![CDATA[waffles]]></category>
		<guid isPermaLink="false">https://elephantsnever.com/?p=2091</guid>

					<description><![CDATA[<p>by Neel Trivedi Chip Taylor opened his eyes as a shrieking sound pierced through his ears and painfully made its way to his head. He cursed himself for setting the sound so loud as he reached over and turned the alarm off his phone. As he checked his messages, he looked at the day. It&#8217;s Sunday, he thought. He paused <a class="read-more" href="https://elephantsnever.com/blueberry-waffles-a-side-of-poignancy/">Read More</a></p>
<p>The post <a href="https://elephantsnever.com/blueberry-waffles-a-side-of-poignancy/">Blueberry Waffles &#038; A Side of Poignancy</a> appeared first on <a href="https://elephantsnever.com">Elephants Never</a>.</p>
]]></description>
		
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		<post-id xmlns="com-wordpress:feed-additions:1">2091</post-id>	</item>
		<item>
		<title>Higher</title>
		<link>https://elephantsnever.com/higher/</link>
					<comments>https://elephantsnever.com/higher/#comments</comments>
		
		<dc:creator><![CDATA[Andre]]></dc:creator>
		<pubDate>Wed, 07 Aug 2019 11:08:50 +0000</pubDate>
				<category><![CDATA[Trunkated Tales]]></category>
		<category><![CDATA[ashes]]></category>
		<category><![CDATA[forget]]></category>
		<category><![CDATA[higher]]></category>
		<category><![CDATA[memorial]]></category>
		<category><![CDATA[memory]]></category>
		<category><![CDATA[summer]]></category>
		<category><![CDATA[swing]]></category>
		<guid isPermaLink="false">https://elephantsnever.com/?p=1794</guid>

					<description><![CDATA[<p>by Stella B. James We used to swing here all the time, remember? I’ve forgotten many things with each passing year, but the image of my feet kissing the sky as my stomach fluttered with excitement remains as fresh as if I were fourteen again. “Push me higher!” I’d call out. I can almost feel your hands on my back, <a class="read-more" href="https://elephantsnever.com/higher/">Read More</a></p>
<p>The post <a href="https://elephantsnever.com/higher/">Higher</a> appeared first on <a href="https://elephantsnever.com">Elephants Never</a>.</p>
]]></description>
		
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		<post-id xmlns="com-wordpress:feed-additions:1">1794</post-id>	</item>
		<item>
		<title>Masters</title>
		<link>https://elephantsnever.com/masters/</link>
					<comments>https://elephantsnever.com/masters/#respond</comments>
		
		<dc:creator><![CDATA[Andre]]></dc:creator>
		<pubDate>Thu, 14 Mar 2019 10:30:22 +0000</pubDate>
				<category><![CDATA[Rumbling Rhymes]]></category>
		<category><![CDATA[caesar]]></category>
		<category><![CDATA[death]]></category>
		<category><![CDATA[dog]]></category>
		<category><![CDATA[forget]]></category>
		<category><![CDATA[forgets]]></category>
		<category><![CDATA[gale acuff]]></category>
		<category><![CDATA[love]]></category>
		<category><![CDATA[memorial]]></category>
		<category><![CDATA[poetry]]></category>
		<category><![CDATA[religion]]></category>
		<guid isPermaLink="false">https://elephantsnever.com/?p=1503</guid>

					<description><![CDATA[<p>by Gale Acuff When I can&#8217;t fall asleep I think about my dog, Caesar, run over long ago – thirty-two years it&#8217;s been: I spend the night at a friend&#8217;s house. My father picks me up next day, and, halfway home, at a yield sign, where Post Oak Tritt runs into Sandy Plains, Son, your dog was hit by a <a class="read-more" href="https://elephantsnever.com/masters/">Read More</a></p>
<p>The post <a href="https://elephantsnever.com/masters/">Masters</a> appeared first on <a href="https://elephantsnever.com">Elephants Never</a>.</p>
]]></description>
		
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		<post-id xmlns="com-wordpress:feed-additions:1">1503</post-id>	</item>
		<item>
		<title>Moveable Feast</title>
		<link>https://elephantsnever.com/moveable-feast/</link>
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		<dc:creator><![CDATA[Andre]]></dc:creator>
		<pubDate>Sat, 16 Feb 2019 18:38:33 +0000</pubDate>
				<category><![CDATA[Rumbling Rhymes]]></category>
		<category><![CDATA[cancer]]></category>
		<category><![CDATA[easter]]></category>
		<category><![CDATA[memorial]]></category>
		<category><![CDATA[moveable feast]]></category>
		<category><![CDATA[poetry]]></category>
		<category><![CDATA[ray ball phd]]></category>
		<category><![CDATA[religion]]></category>
		<category><![CDATA[st. sarkis]]></category>
		<guid isPermaLink="false">https://elephantsnever.com/?p=1458</guid>

					<description><![CDATA[<p>by Ray Ball, PhD In memory of Jan During her funeral, which I could not attend, I wondered why there are so few Moveable Feasts. She told me once, while we were doing something mundane, like getting frozen yogurt at TCBY, that one of them is the day of St. Sarkis. That Christian general who marched to Antioch, but realized <a class="read-more" href="https://elephantsnever.com/moveable-feast/">Read More</a></p>
<p>The post <a href="https://elephantsnever.com/moveable-feast/">Moveable Feast</a> appeared first on <a href="https://elephantsnever.com">Elephants Never</a>.</p>
]]></description>
		
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		<post-id xmlns="com-wordpress:feed-additions:1">1458</post-id>	</item>
		<item>
		<title>At the Memorial</title>
		<link>https://elephantsnever.com/at-the-memorial/</link>
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		<dc:creator><![CDATA[Andre]]></dc:creator>
		<pubDate>Tue, 25 Sep 2018 09:30:57 +0000</pubDate>
				<category><![CDATA[Rumbling Rhymes]]></category>
		<category><![CDATA[grief]]></category>
		<category><![CDATA[leah mueller]]></category>
		<category><![CDATA[let]]></category>
		<category><![CDATA[lets]]></category>
		<category><![CDATA[memorial]]></category>
		<category><![CDATA[poetry]]></category>
		<category><![CDATA[quit]]></category>
		<category><![CDATA[quits]]></category>
		<guid isPermaLink="false">https://elephantsnever.com/?p=1094</guid>

					<description><![CDATA[<p>by Leah Mueller Afraid to weep, my son carries his father’s ashes in a cardboard box. As water roils in the distance, he steps inside a crater filled with loose gravel, twists his ankle, crumples to the ground. We stand above, hands outstretched while he tosses in agony on the asphalt. On the shore, beachcombers climb dead tree branches, pick <a class="read-more" href="https://elephantsnever.com/at-the-memorial/">Read More</a></p>
<p>The post <a href="https://elephantsnever.com/at-the-memorial/">At the Memorial</a> appeared first on <a href="https://elephantsnever.com">Elephants Never</a>.</p>
]]></description>
		
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		<post-id xmlns="com-wordpress:feed-additions:1">1094</post-id>	</item>
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