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A while back one of my extended family members got a divorce from his wonderful wife. To me she had become my friend. There was a bit of pressure that it should be one or the other. I protested. I let my extended family know that this was wrong. You can still love a person…

I pick my son Danny up from the house of a friend. The car is quiet. “I love you,” says Danny. He shakes his head back and forth with awareness of the words that have just left his mouth. “That’s a habit I picked up from you,” he says with some teenage agony. “One of…

It’s hot in Siesta Key, Florida. The water splashes up against the dock. The kids scurry past us. They jump onto the jet skis. “Hey,” yells my friend Lucy. “You are everything to me!” Lucy’s three kids look up and smile at their mom. They are anxious to hit the open seas. “Hey,” commands Lucy…

I love writing this column because not only is it cathartic for me, but because I can attempt to help some of the people in pain reaching out to me. I can tell them that I understand their heartache. It is true that marriage problems come in all different shapes and sizes. However, there is…

I often want to scream. To announce to the world that love just simply isn’t that complicated. Ironically, that is often what I tell my marketing clients. I urge them to understand that business is not complicated. On the contrary, it is built upon a few, simple principles. If you stay brand centered and conscious…

There are small things that mean bigs things in a relationship. Are you in a relationship with someone that during an argument or when you are attempting to express your feelings: Walks out of the room or out of the house? Sits silently with absolutely no response? Hangs up the phone on you? Dismisses you…

It is Saturday and I am meeting a friend at our local coffee shop. We sit at a table in the corner. The fireplace next to us adds warmth to this cold winter morning. We clutch our coffee cups as we chat with a friend at the table next to us. We are talking about…

I sift through the priceless artwork that you once created. The ones where your chubby, little, fingers grabbed for paper and you scribbled with love. The crayons documenting your tiny, world view. It was you and me. How I adore those pictures. The ones where I was perfect in your eyes. I was allowed that…

“I’d like to pay for the car behind us,” says my son, Tommy. The woman collecting the toll smiles, shuffles the money once again and obliges his wish. Just moments before we vie for a space as we attempt to merge in line to pay the toll. Our leisurely car ride listening to music and…

I am the youngest of five children. I remember in grade school the days they would tell us to bring in a baby picture. We used to joke with our mom that she would just hand us any picture and tell us that she thought it was us. Now of course, I am exaggerating (slightly)…
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