Leaving

When I was a child, I sat on the edge of a single bed and listened as my father told me how he was going on a business trip. He never came back. He was, in fact, moving out. The nuclear family I had been born into died that day. The funeral was the day … Continue reading Leaving

Remembering Papa

Today, one year ago in the early morning hours in Florida Hospital Orlando, Papa ended his fight.  He was 71 years old. Here is the obituary that I wrote for him. It wasn't published in his hometown paper. A shorter more mundane version was published.  Momma didn't think his Pennsylvania family would get it.  She was … Continue reading Remembering Papa

Not A Real Family (April Page 18 )

He's not your real father.  So don't expect him to care. She's not your real kid so don't expect her to love you. Step-kids aren't really kids. And Step-parents are just playing a game that they can stop at any time. But my Papa loves me. He shows me everyday and has always got my back. Years … Continue reading Not A Real Family (April Page 18 )

Papa – The Birthday Boy (April Page 14)

When I was twelve years old, I got the very best present in the world, my Papa.  He didn't come exactly on my birthday. I don't even remember the exact day, but when he came in to my Mom's life. He made sure she was in mine again. We finish each other's sentences. And if you … Continue reading Papa – The Birthday Boy (April Page 14)