Category: Essays

I went shopping for a mailbox today.  Before I left, my husband, Mark, put in a special request.  “Can you get one big enough so that my whole hand can fit in i...

  The first time it happened was in October. And then again—twice—in November. What better season for falling? The leaves lose their grasp and come floatin...

I grew up flying, shuttling back and forth between Mom in the Midwest, Dad in New Jersey. Once a month, I left Champaign-Urbana–that classically low-lying...

  I was asleep the night Chris died. He had just returned home from college a week before Christmas and was driving at night with his sister. They were ver...

On the first above-fifty-degrees-day in February, try not to make snarky comments to your husband about your neighbor across the street, R., when he backs the t...