I don’t need to look at pictures because I hold snapshots in my heart. I close my eyes and picture my son running down the hill with a star-spangled top hat perched on his toddler head.  The next year he holds hands with his sister, with red, white and blue goggles...

The sheet my son holds is thin and weathered from the years. It is an inherited page from my husband's family. The words and songs were his as a child and are our tradition now, and we claim them in this kitchen one more year.   He is 18 and he reads Isaiah while...

I'm not sure how old Shelby was when I noticed that her emotions were deeper and more sensitive than most. But I do recall arranging and rearranging her stuffed animals A LOT to get them in just the right spot so she could sleep.  Perfectionism is a trait she...