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I am chatting with my friend, Crystal (as always, name changed to protect the innocent). The sadness in her voice is palpable. It is just about a week after the anniversary of her father’s death and days after returning from her brother-in-law’s funeral. Crystal is reflective. Death brings this out in people. I, too, am…

I have always prayed for signs. After losing my mom, I was especially desperate for them. I remember telling my uncle, the priest that I had prayed for a sign my mom was okay and that I had asked for one by the end of the week. I wanted to make sure that I didn’t…

I had many years where I would say I lived a life that was pretty perfect. I was low stress, organized, philanthropic, living in the moment and overall, I would say, pretty much together. Then things fell apart. While I tried to save my marriage as only a party of one……….I neglected to truly accept…

I am five-years-old. I grab the vacuum hose and climb onto the brick fireplace. I belt out my best version of “Hello, Dolly” for the living room audience. I can be whatever I wish, whatever I dream is possible. In fact, I am so richly confident, I change my mind weekly. I will be a singer…

The mall teems with people. Cars are vying for spots. It’s one of those days were it may be a better idea to save some cash and head home. If I were going to vote on locales where human beings can be their ugliest. A crowded parking lot would have to be in the top…

My sister drives the car while I ride shotgun. My three boys chatter behind us . We are hungry. Scratch that, we are starving, so we drive to scout out the perfect lunch spot before our drive back to Sarasota. We are smack in the middle of Orlando, Florida. A seemingly perfect spot for restaurant…

I am chatting with two of my friends in their store. I do not feel comfortable with what brings me here this crisp, fall morning. It is not always easy to share certain things even for a writer like me, but I need to confide in them. The store is warm and inviting with intricate…

It’s a warm, summer evening as we make our way out of the house. My three boys stop and wrap their arms around their Aunt Rita and Uncle Tom. It is a hard goodbye as always. Love spills everywhere. It is now my turn to wrap my arms around Uncle Tom and Aunt Rita. “I…

The table chatter is rampant. Waiters and waitresses rush through the packed crowd. The wine glasses fiddle from hand to hand in between the noshing of tapas. There are three of us on this weekday evening. We discuss work while others are well into the post-work, happy hour mood. We are discussing features for an…

I am in the basement of my childhood home. I am with my brother and sisters. One of them snatches a box from behind the bar. I sift through the box. It overflows with cards and notes. My thoughts drift back to the day that I grab my mom’s birthday card from her bedroom dresser.…
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