Tania, Requiescat in Pace et in Amore, Our Beloved Sister A couple of weeks ago, it was a year since my sister, Tania, died. And when Tania died, and then when the year anniversary silently journeyed into our lives, for me, and for all of us within the larger family, at neither time did our...
A Treasure Intangible – The Name of a Beautiful Little Baby Boy I have a variety of little physical treasures, little things worthless to practically everyone else, that sit on the little two drawer chest in my study. One, the red glazed ashtray that I made in kindergarten, my first ever...
Written: Monday, December 3, 2018 We, my wife and I, put up the Christmas tree and the outside lights on Saturday. On Sunday, after the 90th birthday celebration of the woman I consider my second mother, my wife continued putting out and arranging the Christmas decorations and now the house...
Sitting on the small, two-drawer chest somewhat in the middle of my study, is the small, brown, ring box, now worn and faded in places, that my mom’s engagement ring eventually came to rest in – a ring of 22k gold, my mom said, with three good-size sapphires and little diamonds in between - the...
On a Thursday, on a clear, warm, sunny day, a month after my sister Tania’s passing, we were finally able to have her funeral and burial, the delay due to the increased demand for mortuary and cemetery services because of pandemic deaths, and the restrictions then in place on public...
Welcome family and friends to this celebration and send-off of our sister, Tania. To start this eulogy for my sister, I am first going to read a slightly modified version of what is written on the back of the Order of Service handout that you received when you came into the church. Our...
In February, two nieces and I took my sister to a medical clinic for a cancer related procedure. It took us all a month it seemed to set it up, to work out all the details, insurance and logistics, and to coax and convince, and mentally and emotionally prepare my sister – and all of us - for...
The sign I held in protest is coming apart; the glue is losing its grip. It leans against the wall behind the open door to my study out of sight, but when I close the door to work at my desk in peace with quiet, I always see it, and I make no attempt to fix it. I prefer it now as it...