Category Archives: Massachusetts
I was suddenly aware of everything: the squelch of the slider door’s rubber seal releasing as my brother came in from the yard. The creak and crash of the screen door to the garage behind my dad.
Could my parents have admitted they were too busy or uncomfortable to teach me? Yes.
Am I mad, bro? No.
I grew up knowing that I would not date a woman unless we were going to get married. No pressure, you’ll know when you know, but figure it out and don’t mess it up or your entire life will be ruined.
I didn’t know how to write about a rain jacket on Palm Sunday after forty-four people died in their churches.
When you start to recognize people and places, and you start to be recognized, you start to feel home. Re-cognize—from the Latin cognoscere, “to know.” To re-know, or to know again.
Stories of travel compel us, she says, because “more reliably than anything else on earth, the road will force you to live in the present.”
Christians shouldn’t be surprised that people think we’re assholes. As a collective, we’ve thrown our weight behind some pretty misguided causes.
I thought, if I just touch the wood of the casket, maybe God will bring him back. What if that happened? How amazing would that be? Then everyone would believe in God.
Here I am, commuting by car into the big city. Here I am, one half of a white couple in an immigrant town. Here I am, trying to live honestly in an unfamiliar place, with imagination and empathy.