As the Christmas season wraps up with the Feast of the Epiphany, I’m often struck by how Joseph felt, what he thought. This is a bit of musing about Joseph and his perspective on the Christmas miracle. It has been the craziest couple of weeks. But they fit perfectly with the insanity of the past … More Will he call me Dad?
I told him that if he calms down, I would give him a pen and paper so he could ask me anything … “The first thing he wrote is… ‘Where the f**k am I?’” We collectively pause and exhale a burst of laughter. … More Breath of Heaven – Inhale the Future
Note: This is the fourth installment in the Breath of Heaven series. If you’re new here, Welcome! If you’d like to start with the first installment please click here. I open my eyes. The sideways sallow hall light ushers with it a creeping sense of dread, low-level anxiety threatens to balloon into full-blown freakout. … More Breath of Heaven – Conversations
I’m standing in the sunbeam path trembling as I watch it settle just above the heads of four paramedics kneeling over Greg, my husband. … More Breath of heaven
Our eyes meet as the paramedics jog the gurney away from me down the dreadfully long hall hurrying toward the waiting ambulance. I attempt a reassuring aspect but fail miserably. His color changes from pasty white to gray in an instant. He struggles to breathe. I hold my breath. I swallow a sob as I … More A blink
Pick a classmate’s name out of a bowl, keep it a secret, sneak nice notes or small treats into their desk, share a present at the school Christmas party and reveal your identity. Sounds simple, right?
Hard, butterscotch candy tried to end me. “Never eat these unless you ask first,” Mom warned. Immediately, those golden pieces of heaven with matching cellophane called my name.
Waves glide over my head stealing my breath. Not a swimmer, I push forward toward the prize: a sandbar approximately 200 yards off shore. At least I’m praying that’s what it is and not an oceanic mirage.
I sit in the pink semi-darkness of the growing dawn staring into the beautiful eyes of this tiny boy. I am overwhelmed. My breath catches, an ache in my throat, a sob of joy and fear. Fear of the future and joy for what it holds for him.
Everybody must get stoned … a most invasive earworm. Bob Dylan’s quirky song Rainy Day Women #12 and 35 topped the 1966 pop charts. I was a toddler.
