In life’s bleak stretches, when loss is a lump in my throat and the hours are awash with fatigue and futility, I turn to International Talk Like a Pirate Day …
A new guy has moved into my bathroom mirror. I’m a little startled whenever I see him because I’m used to the old guy.
A year to the day after my diagnosis I had the rare opportunity to attend my own funeral.
One gentle summer night in the city of Timisoara, I watched my friend, Brandon, throw his trumpet out of the second story window of our dormitory.