Imagine that your 42 year old son has died after a four year battle with a rare disease that has destroyed his internal organs. You are grieving at his casket the night of the wake when an official of the church—the church which earlier in this horrid week approved the ceremony—calls you, informing you that …
Connor rocked back and forth on his heels, biting his lip as his eyes darted back and forth, scanning my office. It was his baptism day. “It’s okay to be nervous,” I said, trying to put him at ease as he left my office with his parents on the way to the baptistery. His father …
The eyes that once danced with life—eyes that could focus with the intensity of an eagle after its prey or love with the affection of a mother for her baby— now stare blankly at nothing, emotionless. I peer into those eyes, hoping for something: maybe the reboot of a soul, the reemergence of then into …
My wife occasionally bursts into song when it’s just the two of us at home. “You have a really good voice,” I compliment her. “You should be singing in the choir.” She disagrees: “My voice isn’t that good. Remember, I didn’t even make the Varsity Choir in high school.” I think she’s improved. I heard her again the other …
I called it my African tree, although it had reached maturity long before I took possession of the property on which it stood. “Look at it,” I said to my wife as we sat on our back patio. “It’s out of Africa and out of place and so alone. It looks like one of those …