Reflection on a milestone missed by the untimely passing of a brother., not by blood but by choice. There’s no justice in it but I guess that’s the joke.

Life whispers a deeper truth for those who would listen. It is a kaleidoscope—mysterious, wonderful—begging to be explored, understood, and shared. Understanding is a destination whose course is set on the sum of all bearings, and at the same time, none at all.

Verse born from a struggle to reconcile faith with the pain and loss of my stepfather in 2004 due to cancer resulting from Agent Orange exposure in Vietnam.

Written April 19–20, 1993. Like many, I watched the tragedy at the Branch Davidian compound in Waco, Texas, unfold—a grim reminder of Jonestown in the 1970s, where delusional leaders led vulnerable followers to needless deaths. The title marks the hour the fires began, consuming all, and, with irony, recalls a Biblical verse on the passing…

A year after his passing, I was asked to write a remembrance of my stepfather’s life as the family gathered around his grave to say thank you.

A Love Letter Never Received The former rector (or Episcopal priest) whose Charlotte, N.C. church we attended, and in many ways grew up in, was diagnosed with an aggressive form of Leukemia over the summer. Yet, he was more than just our rector. Fr. Bill Lantz was family. His son, David, called me to share the…

Photography of the Mind and Moment Have you ever experienced a time so good, a moment so perfect that you wanted to preserve it forever? I have many of these moments as I bet many of you do as well. The subject matter and inspiration varied, but at some point during one of these times,…

When devastating news is received by the closest of friends and loved ones, it can make your world stop. It did for me, in a parking lot.

Egg White Omelettes and Juice SW beat me to breakfast last Saturday, a miracle. We met at our local pancake and coffee house as is our routine. My friend and mentor and I touch base frequently. SW and I do our best to meet monthly and check-in face-to-face in addition to periodic texts and calls.…

“I’m an alcoholic.” There it was. Clear and honest and painful. Steam rose from cups of freshly brewed and newly poured coffee as I looked across the table at my friend and mentor. A burly, tall former Marine, SW stared back at me with red rimmed eyes and tears about to breach his wall. Torture and…

I didn’t ask for this nor did you. No, I didn’t ask for any of it. I guess I’m just lucky that way. In fact, I’d prefer not to be here writing short missives destined for dust in a world already choking on electronica yet starving on precious little information. On the surface I was…