Uplifting And Positive News
“We have a crisis going on here.” Those are not exactly the words you want to hear from your daughter when you’re calling home from the other side of the country. “I’ve only been gone a few hours. What could possibly have gone wrong?” I asked with a jillion scenarios racing through my mind. “Daddy can’t find his keys,” my daughter explained. “Oh,” was all I could say, at first simultaneously giving thanks that that was all it was, and
He has no business loving me. The very idea of me could easily inspire a Bitter Party For One. I wouldn’t even blame him. I am not an answer to his prayers. And yet… Here we are at Mother’s Day. I’m the one being celebrated. I’m the one who gets the joy, privilege, and honor of raising his only grandchild. And yet…. The man we call, “Pops,” has experienced more loss than one person should bare: his first wife
Well, hello there, brides and wives! Looks like my column from a couple of weeks ago where I shared my choice not to change my name when I married has touched a nerve. The responses have been pouring in. There’s no way I could print all of them, so here are a few. Tammie Morris represents the majority of women I heard from who chose to take her husband’s last name and make her maiden name her middle name. She
My dad and I are getting along much better these days. Which is interesting, especially considering he has been gone for more than six years now. Gone in the sense of he passed away. Gone in the sense of it was his time. Gone in the sense that what’s left of him, here in my heart, finally feels good. The enormity of the positive and negative influence my father had on me was twisted together like a mighty tornado zooming
This day is coming, Brides. I warn you—it’s coming. Plan a huge Southern wedding including 68 cousins four times removed, go rustic chic spending thousands to say your vows in a splintery barn or elope to be married by an Elvis impersonator. No matter what you do. This day is coming. There’s simply no avoiding it. Anyone woman who has been married must answer the question. Will you or won’t you? My friend, Treva, asked me just the other day. “Did
It’s pathetic, really,what a bad friend I am. You know that friend you want to bemoan to, share your fears, loneliness and sadness about someone who hasn’t shown up in your life? Yeah, I’m really bad at being her. My challenge is, I guess, to borrow from that old movie “The Sixth Sense,” is I see people. Not dead people, mind you, like little Haley Osment saw in the movie. In my case, I can’t
Maybe I should’ve kept my mouth shut. I find that a less attractive option the older I get. There’s that. Maybe I just shouldn’t have looked. But who could miss it? My eyes popped out first. Couldn’t Believe What I Saw Two teenaged girls behind me waiting to check out in the grocery store wearing shorts. Shorts. What an understatement that was. Shorts. Too long a word to describe the length of the garments on these girls. Hoochie mama shorts.
As lucky charms go, mine is not shy. “Daryn, you should write a column about me,” she strongly suggested this week. Since she is the one who, I believe, changed my life for the best ever, hers is a request I’m sure to fulfill. So here goes. She showed up at one of those low times. One of those, feel sorry for myself, this is never going to get better, I’m on verge of getting bitter, Pity Party for One,
Please catch my newspaper column each week in the Atlanta Journal Constitution, the Dayton Daily News and other newspapers across Ohio. Here’s this week’s column: I want to ask her to be my new best friend. I haven’t exactly actually met her yet. There’s that. My teenaged daughter is already freaking out at the idea. There’s that, as well. “It’s stalker, creepy,” she informs me. “What? Dreaming of making someone I’ve not actually met my new BFF?” This conversation is
Please catch my newspaper column each week in the Atlanta Journal Constitution, the Dayton Daily News and other newspapers across Ohio. Here’s this week’s column: I hate not being able to help. The pull to help seems to come as naturally to me as my 14-year-old dog is drawn to her liver-flavored treats. And yet, there are times when you have to know you can’t. You just can’t. At least Dear Reader out there understands my frustration. For this one man, a husband, this
