He fidgets. We wait. He jumps up, runs over to the machine and looks all herky-jerky, happy, just wanting to play with one of those toys they give to kids. You know the toys, right? They’re packed into this glass …

My Son: Holding Tight, Not Letting Go Read more »

The March wind blew and Ben squealed with delight. “Look, Jim, the petals are running!”  Ben’s voice carried at 120 decibels and I gripped Ben’s hand and while the breeze rustled my older son’s wavy, dark blond hair, my throat …

Petals Running Across the Street Read more »