Carry the Chip
The clothes he would never wear again, haphazardly strewn across the laundry room floor, had almost hidden it. It was about the size of a silver dollar, staring at me, gleaming in the shadows, like it was waiting to be found again. It was our son, Harrison’s, Alcoholics Anonymous chip. I silently rejoiced that I …
An Essential Part of Your Daily Routine
Holding Hands
I was afraid to do it, but I finally mustered the courage. In the dark of the theater, I reached across the arm rest and gently took Lori’s hand in mine. She squeezed my hand in return. Sometimes holding hands comes naturally, because we are sure of the relationship, but for two teenagers on their …