When Light Breaks Through the Darkness

  They called it a bomb cyclone; I call it forty-four hours without power. Forty-four winter hours with no heat. No light. And not even cell service.   We were all bracing for the winter nor’easter to rear its ugly head, interrupting our weekend plans with sheets of...

What am I Leaning On?

  Last week I buried my beloved father. The lone bagpiper stood sentry, beckoning us closer, as the familiar strains of Amazing Grace echoed in the open cemetery. The once cloudy skies gave way to a brilliant January sun as we approached my father’s final resting...

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