We are on the porch eating dinner, one night just a few weeks ago, at the front-tip edge of our 21st summer together. The days are warm and nights still cool. Our kind of weather. I think of this weather as our season. Our son (who drove his truck, your truck, Henry's truck, to school … Continue reading Belonging.
It is the start of our second decade in Memphis; our children are five and seven. I know you remember this summer at least as clearly as I do. This is the summer of camp on our block, when each family took a week (or two) with all of the children together. One neighbor had … Continue reading 10
Twenty years ago this week, I met my children's father. Nineteen years ago this summer, my own father drank himself to death. The two events are related in a way, though not in the way you might be thinking. Unless you are thinking that my father finally let go when he knew both of his … Continue reading Paterfamilias.