I wrote these lines at twenty years down the road and posted them again at twenty-four. Here they are at twenty-eight, after a normal Saturday that was anything but.
Even Further Down the Road
Tag: gratitude
Arm’s Reach
A man, a toddler with an iPad, and eight feet of downtown sidewalk between them. I got angry faster than I expected, and the anger wasn't really about him.
The Table
There's a crack down the middle of my kitchen table. You can't see it anymore. The table is a hundred and fifteen years old and it had a family before it had us.
Her Chopsaw
My wife had a chopsaw and knew how to use it. I didn't. Twenty-some years later I build most of what needs building around here, and I still can't name one thing I've taught her back.
Fifty Pounds
There's a photograph of me from Christmas 2004. I'm twenty-six, grinning at the camera, holding a fifty-pound punching bag my wife had just given me. Two weeks before that picture I'd had surgery to remove a tumor. The doctor's instruction was that I was not to lift anything over ten pounds. I don't remember deciding … Continue reading Fifty Pounds
