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Thanks, Papa. And Happy Father’s Day.
It’s Father’s Day–the first one without my (Shay) dad. I felt it more keenly this week because it was also my birthday a few days ago and I didn’t get his annual phone call. It’s always strange how the smallest things can hurt. But while playing with my kids this weekend I realized I had…
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The Longest Shadow
It’s almost poetic that my dad would die on the day of the winter solstice, or sometimes called “the longest night of the year.” Only he and I would likely find it so. Because for years he has called me, almost without fail, to remind me that the days are either getting longer or shorter.…
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On Being Fragile and Calling 9-1-1
“Call 9-1-1” Bethany had never told me that before so I knew this was serious. “9-1-1, what’s your emergency?” “Yeah, hi… my wife is on the ground and she’s experiencing some kind of chest pain. I don’t know what to do.” After some basic questions about my location the operator asked: “How old is she?”…
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Somewhere Between an Artist and an Engineer
I’ve been thinking a lot about identity. Dad was a building engineer. I say “was” because he’s technically retired, but not because he’s stopped. To this day he continues to build. His 5 acres in the rolling hills of Kentucky are filled with barns and buildings of which he and my mom have designed and…
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Psalm 131 Keeps Me From Sinking
In our home for at least the past year we have had a chalkboard sign that Bethany hand wrote Psalm 131 in its entirety on. At only three verses, I have now memorized it. But it hangs right beside our door the garage as we leave each day, and I often glance at it as…