How your mom showed me I had really messed something up was the same way she showed me I had done something remarkably well: she cried. This was also how she showed embarrassment, fear, anxiety, joy, or any of a cluster of emotions that would often bubble up throughout the day. A barbed comment from…
Keep readingIt’s nearly 11pm on a school night and we’re on our way home from the stadium. I haven’t heard anything from you for several minutes and I’m beginning to wonder if you have drifted off to sleep, the excitement of the day finally having caught up to you. But then you ask me, “What was…
Keep readingThis day has arrived, though it doesn’t seem true. How’d I make it through one year, let alone two, Living a life that doesn’t have you?
Keep readingI don’t know how to write this letter to you. There aren’t any words. It keeps happening but nothing happens. All there are are words.
Keep readingIn anticipation of my upcoming birthday, you started working on a secretive project after school. It was one of those highest levels of classification kinds of birthday gifts. And so what if your backpack was filled with sheets of construction paper every day for a week, some of which had the names of months on…
Keep readingThere’s always the nuclear option. I know it’s there. I’m the adult, so it’s mine to use, and I can do that. Anytime I want. It’s just sitting there, waiting for me. Tempting me. It would all be so easy. On the other hand, nobody benefits from the nuclear option. Least of all, me. I…
Keep reading“Hey Dad,” you say as you are getting ready for bed. “I learned the Act of Contrition prayer. Want to hear it?” “Sure,” I answer, readying myself. This is the part of your Catholic school education that I fear. The guilt. The shame. The forced piety. Learning prayers and memorizing them the same way you…
Keep reading“You be as angry as you need to be,” she said. “Don’t let anyone tell you otherwise. Not your grandma, not your dad, no one. And if you need to break things, then by God, you break them good and hard.”Patrick Ness, A Monster Calls The pieces of your Avengers Tower Lego lie scattered across…
Keep readingThe roster is expanding. The Dashers recently added your cousins and your best friend at school, who finally gave in to your incessant offers to join the team. We are now at eight members, and with each new addition, my spot on the squad is growing more uncertain. I am the only adult, after all,…
Keep reading“I’m going to tell you something, and then after that can we stop talking about it?” “Sure,” I say. “What is it?” “Promise me you won’t tell anyone what I’m about to tell you?” “OK, I promise.”
Keep readingWe walk up the stairs to the second floor of the hospital and stop in front of the door to the ICU. A nurse hands us a clipboard with a small card fastened to it. We walk over to a bench near the elevators where we sit as I fill out the basic details. You…
Keep readingWe’re a couple hours into the road trip when you wake up from your nap and say, “Dad, I’m getting hungry.” “Me too, buddy. I’ll pull over at the next spot and we’ll grab some breakfast.” A few miles later I see one of the blue signs posted near an exit along northbound I-5, and…
Keep readingLoading…
Something went wrong. Please refresh the page and/or try again.
Get new content delivered directly to your inbox.
A Widowed Father 