I want to write what we feel. For the millions. I want to talk about writing, analyze life, and be known as the best. I want you and you and you to read my blog. To buy my books. Post on my wall. I want to receive your questions, comments, and concerns. I want you … More Bullshit, as Grandma would say.
What do we know about UFOs, black holes, and how many licks it takes to get to the center of a Tootsie Roll Tootsie Pop? ** My son wears the same underwear for days. He can’t shut off a light. Has to be reminded to brush his teeth. And he whines more than I ever … More UFOs, black holes, and how many licks it takes to get to the center of a Tootsie Roll Tootsie Pop
I wonder when it will end. I think sometimes it’ll come suddenly, while running after my son with a Nerf gun. Both of us laughing, ducking behind furniture, peeking around corners. And finally, a bit of fat will break loose to clog an artery. Down I’ll go with a great thud and the kids will … More wondering when it will end
She didn’t like fire. A few times, out of spite, she peed on our bed because we had fires in the living room. She wanted to be in there with us, but the fire kept her out. Because of that, she felt we deserved a little surprise when we crawled into bed at night. She … More my dog
As I write this, my daughter appears. She’s made me a drawing.
To dad fum Oogie, it says.
There is a sun at the bottom of the page and a sun at the top. There is a flower growing out of the sky and a flower growing out of the ground. In the middle of the page is a giant, smiling frog. … More a girl draws a picture
It doesn’t take a medium, a psychic, a private investigator, or the police to tell us she’s not coming back. When someone’s gone this long—going on three years—she does not suddenly show up at a cousin’s baby shower, her parents’ anniversary, or her son’s birthday. No matter how much people pray, point fingers, analyze the … More the girl that disappeared one night in June
I want to write about the bitter cold and how pretty the snow looks over everything. I want to write about the twenty-three brown apples hanging from the tree in our backyard and how my five-year-old daughter noticed them. “There are more apples that won’t let go than there were last year,” she said to … More sometimes things need to be just so before you move on
My son is eight, but looking like he’s twelve. He’s grown four inches since April. He is lean and strong and already getting too old for things like piñatas at holiday parties. Last night, my wife and I watched as he lined up with the other kids—there must have been ten of them—and he took … More his boy takes a perfect swing at a piñata
It’s hard to give up when you think of someone else. It’s not as easy to pity yourself when you consider your kids and parents, your siblings and strangers. All too often we exaggerate the severity of our aches and pains, misfortune and loss because we’re focused on our own desires—our so-called needs and wants. … More one arm, a dead cat, cancer
You can never know what’s going on inside another person. Sometimes, the surface cracks. We see small tears, a biting of the lip, restlessness and moaning when they sleep. Other times it’s red cheeks, blood-shot eyes, a furrowed brow. But most of the time, people with guts and good sense and hope just keep on … More the benefit of the doubt
The Crooked Steeple 