Ever since my brother Bobby was a teen he loved his guitars. He had a natural talent and could play anything by ear. It was amazing that he could tune guitars perfectly before he even knew what he was doing. It reminds me that he lived his life that way too. He died a little over a month ago. It should not have happened. He was too young. It wasn't fair or pleasant or without struggles and pain. so, as Thanksgiving approached it made sense that in my mind I kept asking mysel

I am grieving appropriately. I am allowing myself to cry and the tears flow like waterfalls. My youngest brother Robert left his body a few weeks ago after a year long losing battle with squamous cell skin cancer that went into his arm. The doctors could not save his arm and then within a short few months it appeared in his shoulder, and within months of that surgery it showed up in what was left of the bone of his arm...So, when it made its way to his lungs and showed signs

When I was a small child I loved to lie on my back in the yard and look up at the clouds. I would look for shapes but I also thought that if I looked hard enough and long enough I might get a glimpse of Heaven. When I saw streams of light it depicted for me that God was talking. I still like to think of that one. And I still try to listen to hear what he wants me to know. As I sit here with tears streaming down my face I am trying to figure out a balance between keeping my h