Voices in my house can be loud lately. Or hushed. Both scare me. I like a happy medium. When my sister sits in the bathtub in the dark, she tells me she is reading. I am small, not stupid. No reading happens in the dark. And I sense pain coming off of her. At age… Read More Day of Magic
I was chopping vegetables for dinner, silent tears running down my face. I had just gotten off the phone with my sister. It was cancer. She was terrified and feeling alone, despite the love I tried to pour through the phone. All I could do was listen and witness her pain. Be a witness to… Read More Witness
In 1996, God gifted our family with a precious baby boy. Just like his two older sisters he was perfect in every way. But when he turned 15 months, we started to notice him “fading” and “pulling away” from us. At three-and-a-half, Justin was finally diagnosed with severe autism. Our world shattered. Background Beauty and… Read More Beauty From Ashes: Disabilities
He was the survivor of a Nazi concentration camp. His parents and sisters perished there. I met Robert Walker when I was about eleven years old. I’m not sure if Robert felt sorry for me, genuinely liked me, or thought I needed a break, but he had me home for a weekend. It was a… Read More Ten Cents a Blister
Does money buy happiness? I’m not sure, but I do know it bought the $200 dollar suit, $40 leather shoes, and $20 dollar hair cut I absolutely needed to get hired. Money bought the civilized means that erased condescension, the social capital to tell my wealthy coworker he was an idiot. To be poor and… Read More But Money CAN Buy Happiness
When she was young, she lived on her last dollar and books and dreams. She worked as though her life depended on it. She watched and smiled, said yes I’ll marry you. She died and birthed her boy. She played her heart on that piano and her husband heard and loved her again. She questioned,… Read More My Obituary
We had recently moved to a better part of London to ensure that my brother and I could attend a decent school. Dad was a London cabbie, the kind that drove one of those large black London taxis in the era before the Uber invasion. He would usually drive off early in the morning and… Read More Paper Bag Treasure
When my father died, I kept the wooden box in which he had stored his tools. Dad worked as a plasterer, so the box is scarred and coated in plaster dust. But this box reminds me of all that I learned from him about earning a living. From Dad, I learned that loyalty and pride… Read More My Father’s Box
Last week my father told me that his local Safeway had closed down, soon to be replaced with a Whole Foods. Normally this news would’ve tickled me – I’m a Whole Foods addict – but I was inexplicably sad. He now scans the weekly store flyers and shops the best deals. Why did this conversation… Read More My Fiction Put Me In Debt
Apart from the wondrous enlightened few, we have quite a worried bunch here. We bite our lip peering into a distant tomorrow, fret over things we can’t control. You can check out the confessions on this post if you missed them. We fear the ground giving way under our feet, of being cut off from… Read More Shame On Us
A Holistic Journey 