Salty like hot dogs (and tears). Sweet like marmalade (and life).
I refuse to say that horrible man’s name. Donald Pollock When I brought my father to the hospital –whether for a scheduled visit to his primary care physician or an unscheduled one to the emergency room, the doctor would usually ask a few mental… Continue Reading “Mental Acuity”
The other morning, when I was praying for my sister during my quiet time, I thought about the text she had recently sent. “Heat index of 113. No wonder I’m dripping.” She lives in Florida. Heat index must be like the wind chill —… Continue Reading “The Bad Ones, Too”
This morning I received a notification — “You have a new memory.” I laugh at those notifications. They seem so silly. New memories — pshaw. Memories are, by their very nature, sort of oldish. This morning, though, I paused to look at my “new”… Continue Reading “New Memory”
We are so obsessed with doing that we have no time and no imagination left for being. As a result, men are valued not for what they are but for what they do or what they have – for their usefulness. Thomas Merton, Conjectures… Continue Reading “V is for Value”
Recently I found this photograph from 1982 of three of my sisters-in-law standing in front of my parents’ house. Judging by their attire, the girls must have stopped by the house after a soccer game. Bud and I were in Syracuse, so they stopped… Continue Reading “Z is for Zaengle”
In March 2011, I wrote the following post. It’s a sweet story — and a reminder. I took it out of storage and dusted it off for today. A number of years ago, I was able to accompany my father on his trip to… Continue Reading “Y is for Young”
I always blamed my mother for the abundance of paper in our house. She saved articles from the newspaper, newsletters, and magazines that interested her. Booklets, pamphlets, stapled-together packets of paper from church meetings, Cooperative Extension, the Red Cross and various volunteer activities filled… Continue Reading “X is for Xerox (and other copying methods)”
“Compulsive” — That’s the word my father used to describe himself when I asked him about the detailed lists he kept of his expenses and his earnings. “My parents didn’t have much money, you know, but it was important to them that I go… Continue Reading “W is for Work”
Last night at dinner I asked my father to tell me the turtle story again. I had been a little surprised that my sister had never heard the story and wanted to make sure that I hadn’t imagined the whole thing. “Do you remember… Continue Reading “V is for Vague and Vivid”
I found this picture yesterday and showed it to my father. “Do you remember this man?” I asked. He shook his head. “No, I don’t think so,” he replied. “On the back it says, ‘Successful defibrillation and external massage’ — Does that help?” I… Continue Reading “U is for Untold Stories”
