The most meaningful conversations take place effortlessly as we move through our busy lives. My son was nearly seven when he accompanied me as I carpooled his sister and her friend to an early morning band class.
Jesse: “Mom, did you know what you were going to name me when I was born?”
Me: “I sure did.” Continue reading
The only two uncluttered surfaces in her dimly-lit room were the single bed in the far left corner and the half of the couch nearest the door. Stacks of dust-laden hat boxes covered a wooden rocking chair; some had even migrated to the floor at the base of the chair, serving as a kind of fortress. Cigar boxes from Stadler’s with cheap “spickled” jewelry and larger shoe boxes with still more costume jewelry were stacked behind and as high as the couch, each supporting the other in a kind of symbiotic relationship. Continue reading