I love going to The Movies. I especially like movies that make me think. Oscar Night is my […]
I’ve been in mourning. Mourning the loss of my freedom. Wishing to have more without giving anything up. I made a list of all the things that make be cry when I think about leaving my business of free-lance writing and consulting: long commutes, walking in my yard anytime I want, my office, lunch with Loved-One, fluidity…
I know, I know. In these economic times, I should be happy that I have this opportunity. Especially, since I was minding my own business and two, yes, two firms contacted me. I’m really am sooo lucky.
So why do I feel sad?
Oh my! Even the nights were hot. Thank God for sandy beaches and cool waters of Lake Michigan. […]
Many of us face Father’s Day without our Dads. Even for an adult, the process of losing of a father can leave us adrift and bereft. On an intellectual level, we know it’s inevitable, yet the reality can hit us with a tornado of emotions, and sometimes when we least expect it. This piece was written as my Dad was dying, twelve years ago this year. I mark the years by the age of my first grand-daughter. My son placed his newborn daughter in the crook of her great-grandpa’s arms, the day before he dyed. I’ll never forget the look of pure joy on Dad’s face and the way he squeezed little Emma close to his heart.
When I was a child, I spoke as a child, I understood as a child, and I thought as a child. But when I became an adult, I grew far beyond my childhood, and now I have put away the childish ways.
– 1 Corinthians 13, 11
This verse keeps running through my mind. The one persistent thought among a kaleidoscope of memories that wash over me like waves against a lone rock on the beach. Each time the passage enters my consciousness; I end it with this thought: I was about eight when I put away my childish ways.
When I was brand new at the job I’ve had for nearly a decade, I called one of my best friends. She’s been my friend since grade school.
“I’m the Most Responsible Person.” I explain, over the phone, about my new position as head of Regulatory Affairs for a small pharmaceutical company. “Whenever I submit papers to the Agency, there’s a line that asks for ‘the most responsible person’. That’s me!”
This woman, who’s known me for so long, laughs a deep, from the belly laugh. “You’ve been
“Last year, we sent sheets to Cuba. My wife’s grandmother had surgery, and the hospital had no sheets.” Rainier Andres (Ray) is an American citizen who came to these United States with his mother. He has no brothers or sisters and his father is still in Cuba. Ray reminds me of a documentary I saw last Fourth of July: “Citizen U.S.A.: A 50 State Road Trip,” by Alexandra Pelosi. These new citizens brought tears to my eyes.
Ray was a teenager when he came to America, he was too naïve, or perhaps too filled with machismo to understand the dangers. Ray considered