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Seeing the Man

Seeing the Man

Bending to kiss him goodnight, I whispered: “I love you exactly as you are.” His ten-year-old face relaxed at that. My son—at once gentle, kind, destructive and dreamy-eyed-—held a real depth of feeling behind his cool, blue eyes. The nighttime routine was...
The Quiet Perfection of Now

The Quiet Perfection of Now

Winter smacked me in the face as I bore on against the wind toward my children’s school. Every day it was the same—a mad dash from my driveway to the schoolyard to collect two bright-eyed whirling dervishes with questions and stories and hungry bellies. I would...