Stories With Heart And Soul 
My uncle is 87 and a very difficult man. Sometimes I struggle to find goodness in him. He has an iron grip on his routine, a powerful sense of entitlement, and no filter. He’s lived alone since my father died last year so I fly up every few months to check on him. Yesterday I headed
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My Aunt Maureen died last month. After the eulogy, we were quiet. Some of us got hives, some got bone-tired, some put their sadness in a box, storing it for another time. In my aunt’s home we returned to our safe routines, telling jokes, crazy-but-true family stories, and cleaning. We are really good at cleaning.
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