No One Is Born Alone
But after Greg passed, something truly remarkable happened. My grandpa made a request that was shocking to the doctors—he wanted to donate his son’s organs to those who needed them.
But after Greg passed, something truly remarkable happened. My grandpa made a request that was shocking to the doctors—he wanted to donate his son’s organs to those who needed them.
We listen to her stories of her young years there. It’s strange to hear older adults rave about the being the age you are now, and I am always unsure how to respond.
Sleep isn’t all that important if it comes at that rate. A night that costs more than thirty bucks is a night that would be better spent wandering around the streets killing time until sunrise.
Scars are the evidence of life—each one comes with a story, and an abundance of stories is, arguably, one of the best evidences of a life well lived.
I had forgotten that the typical French student never packs a sack lunch and wrinkles her nose at the suggestion of peanut butter and jelly.
Sure, this undertaking’s not quite as advanced as rebuilding the Six Million Dollar Man—though that price tag might just be in the ballpark for the cost of diapers.
All was well for a couple of weeks. Pizzas were delicious. Eggs were delicious. Fresh herbs were right on my windowsill, and I was keeping them alive.
Her jaw snaps decisively at the treat offered to her and I immediately recognize that jaw’s ability to snap me decisively in half if the opportunity arose.
I am no stranger to nostalgia. My mom tells me that when I was younger I used to hug the Christmas tree after it had been taken down and dragged to the curb.