My mom is starting to lose her memory.
Sometimes there are sweet moments, like how she reveres a sunset from her balcony while we drink Budweiser tall-boys.
And then there are the hard moments, like when I watch her forget where she is while walking down the street, when she messe… Read more...
On the way to camp this morning, we passed Hazel’s elementary school and she started sobbing. I asked her what was wrong, though I already knew.
“I miss Miss Zimmerman,” she said from the back seat. And then she cried real hard, as if the words out loud were tell… Read more...
Freedom is a weird thing.
When we declare one freedom, we take away a bunch of others.
If I’m free to drive any speed I want without stopping, then pedestrians lose the freedom to cross the street.
If I’m free to put a stake in the ground and declare a piece of land my h… Read more...
I got lucky. Or the opposite.
Whatever… I’ve created a mechanism that draws people to me who are in a dilemma and ready for something new.
And they ask me with the passion and wonder of a child shouting to the ocean,
“What should I do?”
What a gift: to be brou… Read more...
What good are opinions?
When you stop to think about it, they’re for the opiner more than anyone, a way to say, “I’m here.”
But it’s more than that.
When I hear people giving their opinion, the refrain I hear in my head is usually one of two things:
R… Read more...
When Evaline was a kid, I took her down to Jack London Square where the pavement runs straight for a good half mile. We brought her bike, which she barely wanted to touch, hadn’t touched since we got it.
It was early enough that there weren’t many people out, just us a… Read more...
There are good people everywhere.
Better than that.
Everyone is changing,
like the glint of the sun reflected on the ocean:
a thousand slivers of light
coming back together,
And, each one of us,
A god for all the others.
With the vibrations in our v… Read more...
In 9th grade, I was generously forced into journaling by my English teacher. In college, I eventually found my way into a short-fiction class, and was sold. I wrote all the time, was working on stories all the time, daydreaming about my characters, while real-world people talked … Read more...
They say the squeaky wheel gets the oil.
I guess that means I get no oil.
When I’m looking for a gutter cleaner or a floor refinisher, I try and be as nice and accomodating as possible.
Have to call me back? No problem. Can’t fit me in this week? That… Read more...
Most of us are haters, though we hate to admit it.
We are so quick to hate someone outside the room.
We’re particularly good at this when the person outside the room has wronged a person inside the room.
And we’re bonafide pros at hating when the person inside the room i… Read more...