“There's nothing to writing. All you do is sit down at a typewriter and open a vein.” -Red Smith

Looking Back

Posted at 10:02 pm

It was a miracle. I don’t know any other way to describe it. A miracle. And it left me in wonder and awe. Anita and I were making the six-hour trip to see our eldest daughter, Amy, and her family. Anita was driving because … well, she likes the idea of getting there in one […]

Posted at 1:31 am

It is Memorial Day, 2062.  Sarah, a handsome 50-year-old woman, stands with her children in a small community cemetery in the valley where both of her parents were born.  It has been years since she has been here, and she can’t help but wonder why.  Every time she comes here, she wonders why she doesn’t […]

Posted at 12:06 am

Mom would have loved my 6-year-old granddaughter Emily, because in a lot of ways Mom WAS Emily – or Emily is Mom, depending on how you look at it. It isn’t a “look” thing. Mom had black hair and olive skin – Emily is as fair and blonde as they come. It’s more of an […]

Posted at 10:23 pm

To tell you the whole, complete, honest truth, I didn’t know that her name was Edith until I read it in her obituary a few years ago. For a whole group of friends coming of age together during the early 1970s, she was always just “Mom.” Technically, she was Dave’s mom, and I’m pretty sure […]

Posted at 11:11 pm

So I’m sitting on my balcony, enjoying the circus being performed in the courtyard below — never mind that we don’t have a balcony, much less a courtyard. And we almost never have a circus in the yard (at least, not since the last time Anita’s brother brought his grandkids over). This was MY dream. I […]