What if you had one more day to live? Would that change the way you lived today? And why?
Last week, I read an article discussing the difference between endurance and persistence. The author pointed out, correctly, many people use them interchangeably.
His skin, darkened with dozens of scattered tattoos; the man’s eyes illuminate his face like shoreline torches.
My wife and I finish each other’s sentences — but not for the reasons you might think.
Returning to the classrooms may never be more important.
The small potted plant probably weighed no more than a gallon of milk, but the load reflected a practice of lifting the other in life.
I wish to apologize to the United States of America.
I am so sick of writing about COVID, vaccines and masking.
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.
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