Holding my child close is easier than letting go of my teenager.
Some days I just can’t take reading or hearing the news. I mean how many stories can a person take about #DWIJudge, or #dumb thingstrumpsays, or reality shows, or worse: reality.
Searching in the dark: As a parent, hearing about the death of a child by any means is heartbreaking.
Minutes before the start of my son’s soccer game, I cried. I gasped for breath when I read the news that Michael Patrick Lynch had died. Michael was the Irondequoit teen who was struck by a car while crossing the street on his way to school.
Selecting three words helps keep me focused on goals I want to achieve and habits I want to start in the new year.
The following letter—15 lessons for 15 years—I wrote to my son on his 15th birthday, January 9, 2017. I left the letter on my son’s pillow. After he read it, he came to my room, gave me a hug and said: “Thank you.” I felt like a large stone was caught in my throat and I struggled […]
I write like that: in fits and stops. Bits of prose, poetry, and rhyme wind along the road to nowhere. There is no ending, yet. There is just a feeling I must put on paper. This feeling spills from my finger tips, into my notebook or on the screen. Captured. I am crushing it. I […]
The last sip of summer is a lovely phrase that embraces the beautiful reluctance of letting go the final carefree days of summer.