What is 23?

What is 23?

I don't like to even think about when I was 23, truth-be-told. Which is why I love to think of you. You, sweet girl, are the template, the map, the measure of what 23 can be, ought to be, is. Not for anyone else, mind you. Just for you. Which is what I love about you...

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Happy 21st, Abby!

Happy 21st, Abby!

Yesterday, when out running errands, I idled at an intersection and watched a homeless man holding a sign that said, "It's my birthday!" As is always the case, I drove by feeling sad, frustrated, privileged, confused, angry, and profoundly grateful. Why do I tell this...

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