My father has always been the one interested in our family's heritage.  More than once in my childhood, I would walk past the dining r...

Many of us remember spending the six years of junior high and high school just trying to blend in, to be invisible.  More than anything, y...

"So, when are you going to write a book?  You should, you know. You have a gift..." Such compliments once would make my postur...

It's always been troubling to me. The dozens of people who have passed through my life, most not even leaving a shadow of rem...

  In unison, we stretch right arms across our chests, lay palms flat over beating hearts.  The meek and bold alike lift their voices to re...

Yesterday afternoon found me hobbling around the house, my big toe red, and throbbing.  By evening, I could barely walk without yelling at...

My Father's hands are brushed milk chocolate by the sun, their tops stippled with a darker hue of brown. With each passing year, the s...