Stay little . . .

My grandson Luca sings along to Twenty One Pilots’ Stressed Out as I drive. I pick him up after school every Tuesday, giving his mom a…

Sweet Dreams . . .

Somewhere between sleep and waking, I float in the periphery of a sweet dream. I want to stay here soaking up its warm light, but the…

Good Grief . . .

Grief . . . There is no escaping it. All of us will experience a big loss in our lifetime, most of us already have. If…

Shop Talk . . .

I warm my hands on the doubled up paper cup of steeping tea, and people watch. Two young men discuss yesterday’s surf over coffee. The bearded…

A Change of Heart . . .

The coffee shop empties as the morning shift locals make their exit, and the noise level quiets to a low hum. Staring into space, I absentmindedly…

Missing Pages . . .

“Fa Caldo!” It’s hot! I hear the phrase again and again, as the temperatures along Lake Como have been hovering in the low 90s for days.…

Still Learning . . .

Once a week I help my grandson with his schoolwork. It’s a tough day, for both of us. He has little interest in Google slides, or…

Connections . . .

It’s his birthday. He passed away a few weeks ago, still I peruse his Facebook page to read the birthday wishes. His childhood friends, family, and…

Healing and hope . . .

Driving south on Pacific Coast Highway, the sun shines and I listen to The Moth Radio Hour. The storyteller reminisces about a Christmas homecoming after his…

Photographs and memories . . .

I lift the dusty lid from the cardboard box revealing envelopes stuffed with photographs and negatives. Neatly stacked upright and mostly organized chronologically, some are marked…