And if there are moments where heaven opens up a little, rains down some extra happiness, this was one of those nights.

This Day. My mother recounting a single story to me over and over again. She places me on a Carousel, sits me on the sleek, horse, raring...

I knew in my gut that I would carry this with me all my life. The knowledge that empty space could be a hell of a thing.

These days. I miss the used to be. The way back when. I miss my Mother bringing in the mail, pouring her tenth cup of coffee, sitting...

These days. I find strange comfort in the simple things. A cast iron pan. A stocked woodpile of seasoned oak. A fireplace or a woodstove...

These days. Memory seems to be my closest friend. A constant shadow and companion. Like I am some time traveler from the past cast on the...