I hate saying goodbye to July – with its laughter skipping across the shimmering sea. And its fireworks. And sun-kissed cheeks. I hate saying goodbye to July – with its late nights carrying little girls to bed. Little girls who…
July 1991. Flushing, New York. I was roused awake by a hammering at the door. I jumped up, and quickly fell backward onto the couch. The clock in the corner flashed 9:21. I stood again, took three steps across…
The year was 1976. America was celebrating its 200th birthday. Rocky was in theaters. And the Summer Olympics were on television, live from Canada. I was 11 and it was the last time the Olympics meant anything to me. We…
A thick, motionless July evening. The cicadas in full voice. A yellow leaf wafts onto the lush grass from a canopy of green above. It’s a gentle reminder that the solace is a few weeks behind us and that summer…
Before I got into blogging I used to keep an electronic journal. A few times a week I’d open up a Word document and write about things that mattered to me. Then I’d save that document and place it in…
