Startled awake by Kevin’s 5:15 am alarm, I lay there, with my head buried under the quilt and my back to him, praying that the 16 month old in the crib over by the far wall didn’t awaken. After all, I had just been up with him 2 hours ago.
Time nor space nor age nor maturity can provide complete relief from internal losses we have suffered during this human journey. Whether a sudden sniff of faint remembered odor, a sudden shift in the coolness of air, or a certain twang of a familiar country song note hit just right,
This past week, in the front bedroom of a small white 2 story unassuming peaceful country dwelling just past White Knoll High in Lexington, lay a small man barely 6 decades old, his shaved bald head pressed awkwardly into a white pillow as he slept. The peppered grey unruly beard
