I had a dream last night, and you were with me. I was in my wedding dress. You took my hand, and we had a dance, something fathers and daughters do every day at weddings all over the world. This dream was the closest I would ever get to realizing that feeling. Having one last… Continue reading In Dreams, Where I See You Again
I’m talking to you, the people who have flooded Facebook feeds the world over with their call to arms, their outrage, and their chants of “we’re not going to take it anymore.” I hear you. I feel your outrage. I have felt your frustration on a daily basis with a Country that feels like it’s… Continue reading Good People
We didn’t do much when I was a kid. My Mother, my only parent had much to do in the course of the day. By the time the evening rolled around, exhausted she would collapse on the couch to watch television with me. Most of my earliest memories of my Mother include us on the… Continue reading Gilmore Girls, my Mother, and Grief
I can’t be the only the person who feels this way. I know it in my bones that there are other people out there. Other people who couldn’t care about what their friends think about Donald Trump and Hilary Clinton. It’s not that I don’t care about the election, I do. I’m just tired of hearing… Continue reading I Don’t Care About Your Political Views
I just recently turned thirty-seven, and I’m pretty excited about it. I’ve gained another year of experience under my belt in this game called life and for that I am grateful. Every year, I take a moment and take stock of my life. I review what I’ve learned, hard lessons that made my ass sore. … Continue reading Stuff You Should Have Learned By Forty
How would you answer your children when they look at you with a pain in their eyes and ask you, “Why do White people hate Black people?” The question gives me pause. I know that this is the moment that I can no longer hide them from the world. No matter how hard I’ve tried… Continue reading Why All The Hate?
They always say once you have kids your life changes. Simple things like eating a hot meal, washing your hair, and having sex with the person who helped you create that kid – well it’s just going to have to wait.
My earliest memories of my father are all from my imagination. I was told I met him when I was two or three at McDonald’s. I don’t remember it, but I can almost imagine how it went. I probably cried, as this man I never even knew existed up until this point, tried to hold… Continue reading Not All Fathers Are Great But Some Are Amazing
On a beautiful Sunday afternoon, I sat outside and watched my children playing in the front yard. I heard their laughter echo as I watched the trees sway in the occasional breeze. I thought about how innocent, loving and caring they are despite living in a world filled with so much hate.
I shouldn’t be here. I should have expired on that recovery room table six years ago when I suffered a “catastrophic” event. I lost too much blood for any human being to survive. My heart tried twice in a desperate attempt to give up the ghost. Yet, I’m still here. I shook the cold hand… Continue reading Memento Mori