The nice part of my quest to blog every day this month is that it’s like a really cool fast. There are no limits to what I can write as long as I do write. It’s a strange freedom I can’t describe. When I wrote for the Star-Telegram, I was confined to 600 words and

I had one of life’s most embarrassing moments at church today. I arrived early enough to get good parking and my favorite seat in the center of the third pew from the front. I tamped my afro to a reasonable height so the people behind me could see the worship leaders. The sisters to my

I was taught to pray “forgive us our trespasses as we forgive those who trespass against us.” It took me years to realize that sometimes I trespass against myself. To forgive others frees me from bitterness. To forgive myself, frees me from everything.

An almost dear friend of mine has this odd and annoying habit of abruptly ending text exchanges that she started. I much prefer phone calls or even old school letters to less personal texts and emails. Text are efficient and fast so I get it. I use them. It is what it is. Well, my

My parents think I had delayed speech development. I didn’t string sentences together until long after some of my babbling peers. Some would say I have surpassed them all at this point. And I would laugh. Anyway, I could have spoken at birth if I wanted to speak. Unlike my parents, I became fluent in

My sons know the date of their first dunk. Apparently, that’s a huge milestone for young ballers. I missed this rite of passage for my oldest son but I was the sole witness/cheerleader when my youngest leapt into his personal history book. He asked me to videotape, which I didn’t mind. At least, I was

This is going to be hard. I’m really tired. So tired my eyelashes feel heavy. I have a great kind of day job that allows me enough time to think about what I’m doing but not enough time to think about anything else. So the moment I leave the office, it’s like Ringling Brothers unleashed

I simply have been unable to do more than edit things I’d already written up until today. The emotional, physical, and mental exhaustion that accompany a diagnosis of Stage 4 cancer…no, not just Stage 4 cancer–but Stage 4 of a cancer so rare most M.D’s have never seen it–can probably be described but not with

That’s what my oldest son wants to know, “I don’t understand something. Why is Maya Angelou famous?” I swallow my first reaction and remind myself he is 25 years old and Dr. Angelou is 83. I tick off her literary award winning novels like I Know Why The Caged Bird Sings, remind him that we