When addiction first crept into our household 11 years ago, I started keeping a journal. Retreating to clean white paper became my refuge. The blank pages stared back, non-judgmental and welcoming. On their unvarnished surface I poured out my anguish, fear, confusion and shame. It was the only place – until many years later – …
It’s a common word and maybe a little overused today. Compassion. Fostering an intense caring for another’s plight, it sometimes stirs up action – like sending in an army, lending money, delivering groceries, or just making soup. But that loving feeling was not always part of my life. When my son fell into addiction in …
On a recent stroll I spotted two men at the entrance to an elementary school parking lot. A 10-foot wooden gate had locked in the closed position. The men were trying to free it. When I returned about 30 minutes later, they had. Last week a leak sprouted from a fire hydrant at a nearby …