He Touched Me

He Touched Me

All the Jingle Bell and Joy to the World advertisements shout that I’m supposed to be joyful this season, yet I find my idealistic heart grieving for losses, especially losses of family members, whether they’ve passed on or are just lost to me on this earth.

I Want To Be Like an Old Book

I Want To Be Like an Old Book

As I’m obviously aging, I want to be like an old book whose value and beauty rest in its hombre edged faded pages, whose skin cover isn’t quite as vibrant and alluring as it once was, whose binding joining each consecutive chapter creaks and cracks when opened, and whose wisdom surfaces in washed out, underlined passages.

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