If our mothers never went into labor none of us would be here. Labor means work; even the word sounds hard, because it is. Labor Day is just around the corner. A day to celebrate and honor the working people, hardworking people. We work to pay bills, feed our families, pay our taxes; we work to live. Adulthood kicks us onto the hamster wheel of life. Work, rest, repeat; it can be exhausting. Some work three jobs just to put food on the table, to buy an extra loaf of bread. But let’s be...

This year seems to have gone by in flash and yet, it feels light years away from where I stood last June. June of 2025 ended seventeen years of my public-school service as a special needs para professional. It also launched me into retirement, something I only dreamed of and now (to my surprise) was happening. But the end of June 2025 marked another milestone, my seventieth birthday: ushering me into a whole new decade. Celebrating at a small concert venue, I found myself singing along with...

I can’t think about Father’s Day without thinking of my mother, my parents together. I don’t think one would’ve survived without the other raising kids and dogs. They were literally teenagers when they married in 1950. They had no money, no mentors, no guidance how to navigate this joint venture they were about to take. My mom had three kids by age 23. There was no time for complaining; they took on their responsibilities and quickly morphed into adults. No whining about scrimping by; they...