From as far back as I can remember, I’ve wished for companionship — a companion. And now as I near the last years of my life, I realize that though this dreamed-for companionship will elude me, I have somehow, in some unplanned way, filled that need with my own self. As I bicycle down gravel […]Read more "I Dream of Journeys"
In the 1960s, when my brother Doug and I were young, we often ran away from home. Angered by some perceived injustice, we’d tell our mother we weren’t going to take it anymore. We were running away. “We’re leaving!” we’d announce. She’d nod her head as if to say she understood and then pull bread from […]Read more "A Short Story of Leaving Home"
As a child, when books were few and far between, when I had not yet learned about libraries, I craved the written word. In our home we had a small bookcase containing a set of Encyclopedia Britannica and a number of my mother’s art books. I do not know why reading was not emphasized in […]Read more "Of Libraries and Wagon Wheels"
Declaration – I tell you this with some urgency. Life is short, and we must make large of it. We must wake each day conscious to its possibilities. We must wake expectant. We must wake ready. We must participate. This is my declaration. Walt Whitman began his poem Leaves of Grass — I celebrate myself, […]Read more "We Must Make Large of It"