Showing posts from June, 2013

Graduation Blues

            With two kids graduating, I was bound to have a few sentimental moments. Of course I hide this from my humorous husband. He’d laugh, which I totally don’t get. I learned of his strange reaction to my tears after watching Forest Gump together for the first time. It’s the unsaid, unexpected sweet moments of human kindness that twist my throat into a knot. Forest meets his son for the first time, and I have to hold back, take deep breaths, and control the sniffles. If it’s on again, I may leave the room to go blow my nose.   I was fine watching Aaron march down the Middle School track to his seat on the field, was fine during the first two speeches about setting goals in high school…but when the class president spoke about how challenging it was for the kids after super-storm Sandy wrecked their homes and school, my eyes filled. From the top bleacher, I saw a community that shared the same trial, got through the worst of it, and still has challenges ahead. I

The Cost of Being a Dad

                                                                   1st year Tee Ball                                        All County Award                                         age 5                                                           age 19                                    So you’re a father now. Congratulations! You’ve been blessed; from now on you will have someone to worry about and love more than life. We have four sons and a daughter, and have now reached the most expensive stage of all: four teenage boys.     Here is a list of two weeks’ expenses of our most wallet-draining son. Granted this June is a busy month, but still. Who knew one healthy son could cost this much? Times four plus girl.   $ 150…………………… to sports award night at Marriott $ 350……………………..summer baseball league $ 100……………………..wooden bat for summer league $ 400……………………..housing deposit for college $ 200……………………..admissions deposit for college $ 110………………

And Then Came the Purple Poptart

                                                                (A Father's Day Story) Slivers of sunlight reached through the vertical blinds and warmed my legs as I rolled over. Spring crickets sang their overture and the scent of blueberry pie wafted over me before the . . . smoke? My eyes popped open like a toaster. “It’s okay.” Jill rested her gentle hand across my chest and stopped me from bolting into the kitchen. “The girls are making you breakfast in bed . . . so don’t move. I’ll check on them.” “Smells like we should call the fire department.” “Just a little burnt toast, I’m sure. Happy Father’s Day, honey.” She kissed my cheek and left to supervise. I lay in bed trapped, waiting for breakfast. Didn’t they know I only drank coffee in the morning? A dot of milk with no sugar. Strong and bitter. I wouldn’t feel like eating till twelve, at least. I wiggled my toes out of the sheet so they could breathe in some fresh air . . . and waited . . . rea

My Starbucks Chronicles

Every day at lunch break, I indulge in my favorite addiction: a Starbucks Skinny Vanilla Latte—extra hot or extra cold. The bubbly workers ask if I’d like my “usual.” If I’m feeling wild, I may venture out and try a CafĂ© Mocha or Mocha Light Frappuccino. Then I wiggle onto one of the high seats that make the average adult feel like a toddler—my feet swing and can’t reach the ground. I try to read and write and not watch the other customers…but sometimes I can’t help but scan the place for possible characters ideas. Somehow I connect with every customer because we all decided to go to Starbucks at the same time on the same day. Who knows? Maybe God wanted me to cross paths with these strangers so I’d pray for them. And I do. One drained lady comes in every day to order a brownie…just a brownie; if they don’t have any, she leaves without her goody bag. Does she have a family? Does she eat anything else? Why? All I know about this lady is that she lives close enough to walk, and sh