Forgiving My Father

You never forget receiving shocking news, and the details of the day often stick with you as clearly as the news itself. I distinctly remember standing in the park, watching my boyfriend (now husband) play baseball. My walkie-talkie sized Nokia rang and a funny number showed up. I answered it…

The Curse of Comparison

When I was a young girl we played a game called MASH, which was a clever adolescent acroynym for Mansion, Apartment, Shack or House. There were other options too, like your job, spouse, car, number of children, etc. You concentrated on when to stay "stop" as your buddy drew a…