I looked at the jacket. If I took it, I’d just hang it in a closet at the nursing home. It would sit in the dark, smelling of mothballs until I died. Then Sarah would donate it right back to the same rack. History dies when you lock it away.
Category: Insight
Trading Places
Her body is betraying her inch by inch, turning into a concrete prison while her brilliant mind screams from inside, fully aware, fully alive. I watch her cry every day over some fresh loss – a hand that won’t grip, a step she can’t take, a breath that comes harder than the last.
Enough is Enough!
We parked our van and boarded the ark walking up a long, gradual ramp much like the animals boarded two by two in Noah Ark. We were in the ark about ten minutes when we heard a loud, deep boom of a heavy door closing. I imagined it sounded like what Noah and his household must have heard when God Himself closed the door after all were boarded.