memory
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Self-concepts
Flashbacks to 1992 CIT year. “Dave, why do you always give me weedwhacking?” “Because you’re the only one who doesn’t complain about it.” That moment defined work ethic for me. If the hardest-working person I knew saw me as a hard worker, I wasn’t going to disappoint him. Continue reading
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Light
I have this thing about lilacs. The smell of them triggers this vivid memory of a sunny June day in 1995 when I was in my bedroom at Dad’s house with the windows open, the lilac bush right outside, bags packed for camp and sitting on my bed with my cat, and it was this… Continue reading
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I was one of the lucky ones.
Dad once sent me a 5-page letter from my cat when I was away at camp. Signed “Love, Midnight” and including Polaroid photos from her perspective. That’s the kind of dad i grew up with. Continue reading
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November 20, 2006
I don’t mind getting older. (Plus I don’t think 29 is old.) I’m not the type of person who hates birthdays—what a ridiculous notion, to hate birthdays. Yes we’re getting older; but with age comes the potential for the wisdom, compassion, and peace that come through life’s experiences and interactions with others. Still, I experience… Continue reading
Three Dots at the End.... 