I watched the white-haired man walk slowly into the bank. He used a cane to steady himself. He moved slowly. He looked very frail.
I knew the face, but I didn’t really know that face anymore. I had known this man when he was young and strong and vibrant, not when he seemed more like the men from my grandparents’ generation.
But though I hadn’t seen him for years — and though he had changed a lot — this man was still my father.
Until today, I hadn’t seen anyone in my family for roughly eight years. Although I never would have called us this when I was a child, the truth is that we were a seriously dysfunctional family. We didn’t know that phrase then — and even if we had known it, we would have been in denial.
If you think Jesus is a socialist, you don’t understand socialism
We all love stories, but principles should trump anecdotes in debate
Need for love drives behaviors; for me, old needs make me eat
Take time to give honest praise, even when it’s just about a dog
How does modern culture escape ‘little boxes made of ticky tacky’?
We’re more like other animals than we like to admit to anyone
Like an alien, I move through a world I can see but never touch
Lucy’s fun afternoon at my office reminds me that work needs play