Family

What is happening in the world hangs over us, making that agony seem to overtake the ecstasy of being together.

Sometimes I’m stuck in traffic, look up, and see a gorgeous sunrise that I wouldn’t have noticed otherwise.

I had a dream the other night that reminded me of my Christmases past.

Every third Sunday in June we celebrate Father’s Day, and it is worth noting that men who get called “Dad,” “Papa,” “Pop” or whatever other way it can be said deserve their special day.

It seems to happen every year when Memorial Day comes around again – people do not understand why we celebrate this holiday.

Should Christmas presents be given in wrapping paper or placed in a gift bag and covered with tissue paper?

Despite all the naysayers and attempts to prove Santa Claus doesn’t exist, I have proof that he does indeed live and breathe.

I always dreaded Black Friday – the day after Thanksgiving.

In part my visit to the cemetery was for Dad, but I also realized how much it was for me.

Like most myths, endless summer has some basis in truth – we yearn for it and it comes; we hope it never ends, yet we know it always will.