When Mother's Day rolls around each year, I often find myself thinking of my mother, not as a grown women caring for my brothers and me or, even now, loving life as a grandmother, but instead, I find myself thinking of her as a young girl. In fact, I'm ultimately drawn back to a piece... Continue Reading →
My 14-year-old son yawned and rolled his eyes. He was getting tired of being lectured. I was getting tired having to remind him to clean up his room, take out the trash and help with family chores. I saw a losing battle and stormed away mad. I walked up the stairs to my bedroom, grumbling... Continue Reading →
When I was a little kid, I used to laugh at what made my mother happy. To my little brain, she seemed to take a lot of pleasure ― too much pleasure in fact ― in something as small as a hot cup of coffee or a snowy day or even crisp, clean laundry. For... Continue Reading →
Writing from the Heart with Brian 
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