I cannot begin to explain how much I love my adult son and daughter. I thank God and my spouse for who those two adult children are. Being a workaholic the most I could muster was to, hopefully, help them feel loved.

Occasionally, as I get older, dumber, and less able to remember, my daughter has helped me to land on my feet. My son and I have spent many an hour sharing our mutual love of life. These have been priceless experiences.

In the last 25 years, one may have died in a fall and the other from cancer. They are both very alive and well, thank God. Sharing those two with my spouse is the greatest blessing in my life.


Every story tells a picture…

Pilgrim on a Long, Long Journey

As I look back at the stories in my life, I am reminded of their soul- healing value to others and to me. It was the writer Neil Gaiman who said:

And the gulf that exists between us as people is that when we look at each other we might see faces, skin color, gender, race, or attitudes, but we don’t see, we can’t see, the stories. And once we hear each other’s stories we realize that the things we see as dividing us are, all too often, illusions, falsehoods: that the walls between us are in truth no thicker than scenery. (

I occasionally recall the offhand remark of one of my more eccentric, attending pathologists in my residency in the Atlanta of the mid-70s. He said of those people he had autopsied, “I can never remember their faces.” It’s a funny remark, but, at a much…

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