When addiction first crept into our household 11 years ago, I started keeping a journal. Retreating to clean white paper became my refuge. The blank pages stared back, non-judgmental and welcoming. On their unvarnished surface I poured out my anguish, fear, confusion and shame. It was the only place – until many years later – …
I am seated at an outdoor café lunching with a friend after several months’ absence. We barely scan the menu before the talk turns to our children, and then their peers. These are the now grown kids we both watched in the high school marching band, on the outdoor track, in the auditorium at back-to-school …
July 4th makes me think about taxes. It’s not what you think. It’s not about “taxation without representation” or the tax on tea that helped spark a war with a king. It’s about the ties to April 15 – and something my son once said. When Jacob was in high school, and slowly numbing himself …