It’s a gift wrapped in a tragedy. Because you are an older Dad – past the half- century mark when the oldest was born – and that clock is ticking ticking ticking. Your time with them is limited. Each minute becomes an hour and each hour a day. You look at them sometimes, full of youth, playing and laughing, and you try to freeze it there – right there. Make the moment hang in the air, suspended. Devote it to memory. Lock it in place. … More The Memory of Here and Now

A lot can happen in a year. And when we think about all the hours and days and weeks we spent in anguish, especially these past few months, was it worth it? Is it worth it?

We talk about freedom as a construct indicating our capacity to move around and make decisions. But what happens when that’s taken away from us and there’s no recourse or alternatives? No plan B. No contingency. … More These Mountains

When we become History,
when they ink select stories into immortality,
when the air we breathe
turns the word they read,
when today’s sky falls into tomorrow’s headline,
when the sifting and picking at our present reality
leaves none but easily swallowed summary;
as each day we lay the roots of trees,
time’s axe may cut down
the less desirable saplings,
sunshine may only beam
on the leaves most beautiful.

When we become History,
what will be remembered? … More Lost in History