If you’re unvaccinated, I am not asking you to get a shot; I’m asking you to give your decision a second thought and what it means to others.

You might be wondering what’s the big deal about The Daily News winning awards for doing what you expect a newspaper to do already. The truth is, we feel the same way. But that’s what this column is all about.

God is a master at showing up in the right place and right time — even when not on the RSVP guest list.

When we closed down my childhood home, I was ready to let everything go into the back of a large white Salvation Army truck. My hope was there was something left behind from my childhood that could help someone else’s life going forward.

My mother, when faced with a difficult situation or going through a trying time, would always step back and put things in perspective with a few simple words.

Cardmakers paint Father’s Day within a narrow list of traditional themes. While one rolls out a male figure holding a bouncing baby, another shows a man tossing a ball toward a bat-wielding child.

Summer always brings to memory something my mother would say to me and my brother.

Years ago, before moving to Galveston, I was sitting on a stingily padded barstool in a rundown wooden shack that was serving cold beer and fresh oysters fished out of the Florida waters hours before.

Standing on the shoreline of a body of water cut from glacial forces, I can’t help but marvel at the tens — if not hundreds — of thousands of small rocks that surround my boots. They all are created from hard surfaces, their edges softened over time, their jagged elbows replaced by accommoda…

Pilgrimages come in all shapes and sizes. Religious, chasing a genealogy tree or hoping to catch a glimpse of Elvis hanging out in Graceland. Following the passing of my best friend, Walter, I found myself on one as well.

I’m sitting around a small table at my dad’s retirement home. He’s on the far corner, and three women finish out the seats.

Odds are you never met my mother.

I rarely use the word “hate.”

At what point do you stop referring to your children as kids?

In life, like baseball, you need to learn to play the hops.

At 93 years old, my dad is looking for an instruction book.

A couple of hours after her second COVID shot, my wife found an odd sensation rolling across her.

My grandfather successfully served in World War II yet never lifted a weapon.

One year ago, my wife and I went out for our anniversary dinner, only to see the first bricks of life as we knew it crumbling before our eyes.