When I was a kid I lived in a beautiful house. My mother and my older sister were artists; they painted, sculpted and danced their way through life, challenging and inspiring each other. They created and Continue reading →

The Suicide Room. That’s what they called room 733 – as if I didn’t have enough to worry about on my first day as a freshman. Continue reading →

Mom says you have to believe in Santa if you want presents on Christmas.

Sometimes I find this hard to do Continue reading →

“In two miles take exit 19 for Valley Park Drive South.” Siri chirped from my sister’s phone.

“Charlotte, turn that off. I know where I’m going.”

“You sure about that? I mean…it has been a couple decades, Mark.” Continue reading →

The year my mother and father were wed my father bought his wife a very beautiful Baccarat chandelier. Continue reading →