My journal of big words and pretty pictures
Days of anticipation carried him through the chaos surrounding his daughter’s pending wedding. As much as any little girl imagines a fairytale ceremony, fathers dream of walking their daughters down the aisle. When he and her mother divorced, she was only a child. He went from spending each morning of every day with her, to … Continue reading Father of the bride
“We called him Father, never a childish diminutive like Dad or Daddy. One of the newbies once called him, ‘Pop,’ by accident. Maybe it was a dim memory from his ‘before,’ but Father’s lesson taught him that informal nomenclature was a sign of disrespect, and would be appropriately punished. “It followed that we were each … Continue reading Father
I sent out four Father’s Day cards this weekend, to four different men, for four different reasons. The first card went to my dad. Even though we’ve had our differences, had our troubles, the past 15 years or so have been great. We mended broken fences and have become not just dad and daughter, but … Continue reading To all the men I’ve loved
Standing before his congregation, exalted and sainted among men, his extracurricular women crowding pews on both sides of the aisle, he droned on through his soliloquy denouncing his flock’s sinful ways. A waning moon illuminated the outdoor revival, bathing the faithful in ecclesiastical brilliance. He took it as a sign when a shaft of Luna’s … Continue reading This little light of mine
He sat on the curb, legs bent so he could rest his elbows on his knees. A freshly fired pistol, now unloaded and its clip removed, lay on the sidewalk beside him, but out of reach.Dressed in clean jeans, his most comfortable pair of running shoes and the red plaid button-down his wife always complimented … Continue reading A father’s right
Thin spiral notebook 