Swords to Plowshares

    As I write, America is reeling from yet another mass shooting. My social media has been overflowing with disturbing images—e.g., a dump truck emptying piles of waste labeled “thoughts and prayers”—along with loud calls for more gun control and equally loud calls to...
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Little Girls in Older Bodies

  At the altar rail to receive Communion, she knelt, with intention that might not have been so obvious a decade or two ago. Looking up at me, she held out her hands, and then wiggled her fingers to show off her sparkly new manicure. She was a grandmother, but in that moment...
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Insurance that Would Benefit Us All

  My eldest son has moved from having a job into the world of having a career. At some point, we asked him about his benefits package, as he is fast approaching an age when he will need to provide his own insurance plan. He assured us that he has medical insurance with all...
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Swords to Plowshares

    As I write, America is reeling from yet another mass shooting. My social media has been overflowing with disturbing images—e.g., a dump truck emptying piles of waste labeled “thoughts and prayers”—along with loud calls for more gun control and equally loud calls to...
Read More →

Go to the Funeral

  “There was a funeral at school today.” I don’t suppose that’s something you often hear, but that was how my youngest son answered a recent “How was school?” query. Usually, since he’s sixteen, his response is mundane, often a little cynical. Why describe the school day...
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From Another Mother

     Thinking of you living under the same sky, and on the same earth as me, I miss you. I do not know what I should say, or how I should say it. Even though I am ashamed of myself, I want to be called your mother . . . When I had to send you away at the hospital, I...
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Standing Tall, Feeling Small

  I’ve been fingerprinted several times, from our international adoption to TSA Pre-Check. There’s nothing like it for making me feel clumsy—my hands are not my own as someone else rolls my fingers this way and that—or for making me feel like a criminal when I’ve done...
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Go to the Funeral

  “There was a funeral at school today.” I don’t suppose that’s something you often hear, but that was how my youngest son answered a recent “How was school?” query. Usually, since he’s sixteen, his response is mundane, often a little cynical. Why describe the school day...
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A Tale of Two Villages

As we drove through the beachfront resort community, our guide pointed out all the homes of famous people. These were second (and third) residences that belonged to people who lived elsewhere most of the time. Gesturing to one of them, he told us a little about the famous movie...
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Annie: Great-grandmother by Love (not Blood)

Annie Frances McCampbell was born in 1897 on Christmas Day. She hated having a Christmas birthday. As a child, I recall being shocked to hear an elderly woman complain that having her birthday on Christmas meant she got only one annual gift instead of two. Somehow, hearing an...
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