Dear Jane

My mother-in-law was elegant and reserved and taught me the importance of cleaning out a refrigerator. Six years after her death, she still occupies my house—and heart.
Courtesy of the Mackintosh Family
Photographs courtesy of

It began, more or less, with an afternoon tea party in the spring of 1966. Four months after I had accepted the marriage proposal of her only son, a clever teaching assistant who had graded my history papers at the University of Texas at Austin, Jane Mackintosh arranged to introduce me to her friends at her home in Corpus


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