Making the next generation of memories on Memorial Day
Past Memorial Days and making memories in the present. Past memories On Memorial Day when I was growing up, we always drained the muddy water and scrubbed algae from the walls of the 45’x90’ spring-fed pool my father had built for the neighborhood the year...
You gave me the word, I finally heard, I’m doing the best I can
In this season of recitals, end-of-the-school-year banquets, and graduations, I can almost hear the sighs: “Finally! Finally, finals are over. Finally, after all this time, hard work has paid off. Finally, I can move on to the next thing.” But what is that next...
Someday things are gonna get easier, things’ll get brighter
“Years ago, I could not have imagined a someday like this,” I said to Keith. We were sitting at an outside table on the terrace at the Byers Street Bistro. Later, we would read at the SWAG (Staunton, Waynesboro, Augusta Group) open mic located at SolArt Center...
Some glad morning when this life is o’er, I’ll fly away.
For some reason, the “Fly Away Medley,” which our choir is rehearsing to sing this summer at our historic church location Trinity, is kicking my butt. The medley includes: “I’ll Fly Away,” “We’ll Understand It Better By and By,” “When the Roll is Called Up...
Almost heaven and very nearly but not quite there yet
On Friday morning, as I stepped outside with Mac dog into the “almost” at Vanaprastha—almost another day—I heard two barred owls’ spectacular, loud, emphatic calls in the dark before dawn. Ok-ok-ok-ok ok-ok-buhooh, variations of the mnemonic “who cooks for you.”...
Only the lonely, only the lonely know this feeling ain’t right
Mac dog sits quietly on the steps, pressing his body against the kitchen door, lonely and afraid. Whenever he “asks” to go outside, he won’t go until Keith or I go with him. Even then, Mac waggles his head back and forth between his need to relieve himself and his...