The lights glow color, shed joy nestled among the needles on the tree in the corner. The boys are asleep, The Mister’s at the office, and it’s just The Friend

Standing there, I see it. At the end of the checkout lane, two rows of heartbreak stretch long across a bulletin board. Silent, I take it in. On every sheet,

I’d had to smile. On a day that went to the wrong place in a hand basket, he’d come home, spreading sun, grinning cheer. “How’d it go?” I’d ask him,

And isn’t that about it? “All I want for Christmas is my two front teeth.” Yes, that’s just about it, but not quite. What I’d like, actually, is for those

It wasn’t meant to be this way. On a starry night those centuries ago when Heaven slipped, squalling, onto hay, it was silent. No impeccable nursery in coordinating colors. No

Mouth open, I gaze in wonder at the display. Traffic rushes past, horns honk, and a bellhop in a long gray coat tweets his whistle to snag a taxi cab

Today is Monday, tomorrow’s Tuesday, and I’m thinking of T’s. I’m mulling over things that tickle my gizzard and things that don’t and what do you do with those? I’ll

For crying out loud. Can’t we go one winter without a visitation? Just one? Living in an old farmhouse, this is as likely as a Kennedy turning Republican or Mr.

We’d picked up a work-out DVD, his father and I, at the recommendation of a friend. Fair-weather runner that I am, I was ready to move it indoors. And with