The Last Time I Said I Love You

  It’s quiet. Yet the wind is blowing through the trees so hard it’s tearing the bright colored leaves off its limbs, one by one. The clouds are sailing across the sky as if they are in a race without a finish line. And the sky is darkening earlier that I’d like it to. Life … Read more

Dear Mom

Dear Mom,

I’m writing you this letter because that’s what I do. I write about things. I write to process my feelings. I write to find clarity. I write because, as you know, that’s what I was born to do.

Mom, I know that you’ve saved plenty of my letters that I’ve written you throughout my life. The funny thing is, I can’t remember what any of them are about. But this one—this letter right here—I will remember for the rest of my life.

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Things have been a little quiet and calm lately, as I prepare myself for one of the biggest life changes I’ll ever undergo. I still can’t really wrap my head around it, not in a negative way but in a way that makes me blink my eyes in wonder at this thing called “life.” 

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The Piano Man

A few weeks ago, I met a man named Dr. William Webster. At 92, he’s one of the oldest living residents in Hamburg, NY. How do I know that? Because I recently wrote all of the content for Hamburg’s bicentennial book. The book is going to be handed out at numerous 2012 events, celebrating the town’s 200-year anniversary. When I started it, I had no idea that this assignment would connect me with one of the most heart-warming individuals I have ever met in my life.

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