The email my son won't get

The email my son won’t get

Hey, buddy. We dropped you off at camp yesterday. We watched you sit on your bunk in a cabin you’d never seen before. We met…

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Mom's pencil

Mom’s pencil

One of my earliest memories—one’s that just gauzy enough to prove its age, but just clear enough to be truer than most—is a pencil in…

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Mr. Andy

Mr. Andy

My younger son met Mr. Andy at our local grocery store. Mr. Andy bagged groceries for hours on every shift. Once the bags were in…

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The monsters are real

The monsters are real

I grew up on the west side of Springfield, Missouri. If you look on the left part of Springfield’s gridded streets you will find the…

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When Dad looked at the sky

When Dad looked at the sky

There is a shiny headstone on the outskirts of Springfield, Missouri, and it’s where people who love my dad go when they want to be…

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The kid you'll never hear about

The kid you’ll never hear about

The gunfire started about the time we reached Field 4. Rat-tat-tats, small arms, over and over again. We were there for baseball practice. A sunny…

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The happiness blur

The happiness blur

My older son turned nine a few weeks ago, and I have no idea what my wife and I gave him as presents. There was…

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First day jitters

First day jitters

I wasn’t even leaving the house, and I was terrified. The boy wore a “Phineas and Ferb” t-shirt, plaid shorts, and his new sneaks. He…

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So many kids...

So many kids…

“I see so many kids that love being writers more than they love writing.” —Scroobius Pip I could probably count to a hundred, but if…

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The stillness of an 8-year-old’s chest

The stillness of an 8-year-old’s chest

I looked down on the ground. In the grass sat a little plastic coin, scuffed and scratched from little-boy cleats that had walked over it…

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