Early first signs of winter are upon us here in Boston and the conflicting beauty goes hand in hand with my Daddy being in hospice. I know he will be in the presence of our God once he transitions from this life and yet, I wrestle with being Daddy’s Little Girl without having my Daddy. Read the full story…
His smile would charm even the most cantankerous. “How did you possibly put up with him for nearly 60 years?,” I lovingly nudged, inquiring of his bride. She lay there, dying in the hospital bed placed in her home to cradle her. The next door neighbor I had only just met. Unwittingly. Just days before she took her last breath. Read the full story…
Today’s guest post comes to us from 26-year-old tattoo artist Corbie Sullivan. In addition to his tattoo art, Corbie currently works with mentally handicapped adults in upstate New York. But not so long ago, Corbie served in the Army Infantry for three-and-a-half years, spending 16 months in war-torn Mosul and Baghdad. “I joined the Army because every time I watched a non-fictional war movie or documentary about 9-11, I knew I wanted to contribute and do my part,” he tells me. He tells more — much more — in the up-close-and-personal essay he wrote several years ago. The essay, “The Culture of War Brings Jumble of Emotions” was published in The Post Star on Memorial Day 2009 and re-printed here with Corbie’s permission.
For the first time in 25 years, I spent October 24th reflecting on the car accident as the accident, rather than my accident.
Early in the day, I penned a blog post about how that day affected the hearts of an entire community. Read the full story…
Did you ever like it better when it was yesterday? Wishing tomorrow wouldn’t come because of what it held or represented? (I see many of you nodding your heads because yesterday was still “the weekend” in this case!) Read the full story…
