Faith, Fiction, Friends

Just recently, for some unknown and unprompted reason, a memory flashed from when I was eight or nine years old. I was visiting my grandmoth...

For many years, until they changed the closing time, my wife and I could be found most Sunday afternoons at the YMCA in out suburb of St. Lo...

I haven’t lived in New Orleans for more than 50 years, but when I think about the idea of “home,” it’s what first comes to mind. Whenever we...

Flashback to 20 years ago: I had a cousin who’s about 15 years older than I am. Out of the blue, she began calling. I had become the keeper ...

November, 2022: It’s just over 53 years since I first walked on the campus at LSU in Baton Rouge as a college freshman. I’m in the school’s ...

In Greek mythology, five rivers flowed through Hades, the underworld. The Rover Styx was the boundary between Earth and Hades. Phlegethon wa...

Awareness of time is heightened at two periods of our lives. When we are very young, time appears to move at a glacial pace, especially as w...

Poet   Charles Hughes   teaches us something about poetry – and the evening sky. When you see the sky of the fading day, late afternoon turn...

Memory, and memories, can become tangled in the reality of current experience. The backyards or gardens of the homes we grew up in some...

We were in Chicago for a concert; actually, the concert was in the northern suburb of Evanston , home of Northwestern University, and o...

I hadn’t read the poetry of Bernard O’Donoghue before his most recent collection, The Seasons of Cullen Church . And yet, reading thes...