I mentioned before that I enjoy writing letters to my young boys – little snippets for them to perhaps read one day, or merely for my own therapy. Isaac, my seven-year-old, did something recently that keeps coming back to mind. I thought I’d share […]
A couple years ago, I realized that I am disturbed by broken things. The revelation came as I recounted the tale of some broken Christmas ornaments to a professional set of ears I’d been paying to listen to me. The tale started with some poorly chosen screws, some […]
I’m afflicted this morning with a nervous stomach. I’ll expound in more detail at a later time, but I’ve been reading this book – The Wisdom of the Enneagram. It talks a lot about remaining present, living in the moment and feeling the sensations of the heart and […]
The following is a work of fiction. Frankie used to refer to the Shady Acres as The Short Timers club. Each person there was not far from a game-ending heart attack or stroke. Frankie had developed an uncanny ability to foresee who was on the verge. Or maybe […]
The following is a work of fiction. I only once saw Frankie emotionally shaken, and it didn’t alter my respect for him; in fact, it reinforced it. We got to talking about a friend of his he’d lost during the war. The guy’s name was Joe Stern, a […]
The following is a work of fiction. The first time I went to church with Carla, I went, of course, because I loved her. I wasn’t used to attending church; my family never went, except maybe at Easter time. I’d been invited in the past; some guy from […]
The following is a work of fiction. Part 1 here Part 2 here World War II History was the first class I circled on my community college enrollment form. While I was growing up, Dad watched countless films on the subject. When I was a kid, it annoyed […]
The following is a work of fiction. Part 1 here “…for there are other passions, deeper passions; you know this. You saw fit to sow them there. Sometimes I wish I was not so aware of their presence–beneath the crude folds of my temporal flesh, beneath even the […]
The following is a work of fiction It was long after the media had stopped glamorizing the daily numbers of wounded or killed in action that my dad suffered the injury that changed his world and mine. He was mentioned briefly in the news, but only on the […]
This won’t be an easy one for me. I will be touching on things that make me uncomfortable, but I think I ought to say what I am compelled to say, and I believe I need to read these words, once they’ve tethered to one another and been […]
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