By Margaret Evans, Editor

Cassandra King Conroy is curled up in an armchair, buried in a pile of family photos, when she waves me through the front door.

            “Margaret, if it’d been anybody but you coming over, I might’ve cleaned up this mess,” she laughs, and I’m instantly at home. 

           It’s been a while. In recent years, I’ve attended a few Conroy Center parties in this cozy living room, but if memory serves, the last time I sat on this sofa visiting with Cassandra, her husband was in the other chair. Beyond the glass doors, Pat Conroy’s beloved Battery Creek is primed for sunset like a canvas for paint, and I feel his absence in my throat.

By Margaret Evans, Editor

Y’all aren’t going to believe this, but lately I’ve grown tired of expressing myself.

            (I see you laughing. Stop laughing.)

By Margaret Evans, Editor

I’ve been hearing the word “orientation” a lot lately.

            My daughter’s friends have been going through their various college “orientations,” learning what it’s like to live away from home for the first time in their young lives. Meanwhile, Amelia is halfway across the universe in Ostrava, Czech Republic, struggling to “orient” herself to a new and very different culture. In a few days, she’ll join 70 other Rotary Youth Exchange students – from all over the world – in Trenchin, Slovakia, for her district’s official “orientation” weekend.