My town is slightly covered for the beginning of this winter snowstorm. The tree branches in front of my house are like arms draped with white blankets of snow. And the Cobus, Horse Stable, the Catamount, and Panther Mountains behind my home, which are a short distance behind Haverstraw Road are covered as well. It’s pretty now. It’s quiet and while armed with a cup of coffee, I figured now would be a good time to sit with you and write a few thoughts.
I know that we never expect life to ever unfold the way it does. No one ever expects things to end badly or messily —and if deep down, we knew things would in poorly; I wonder if Continue reading
Category Archives: Letters From A Son
The Old Man and a Shirt
Way back when, I can remember The Old Man wearing a gray sweatshirt when he felt a cold coming on. The Old Man was rarely sick, but when he was, The Old Man would get it, he would get it bad. He would throw on his old gray sweatshirt and a pair of 
sweatpants. More important was the shirt. The sweatshirt was old with holes in it. The fabric was worn and the neck was frayed. Mom wanted to get rid of the shirt but The Old Man wouldn’t let her.
This was The Old Man’s sick shirt. It was comfortable for him. And when the fever set in and when the congestion took over, the shivers, the aches and Continue reading
Explaining The Unexplainable
How do you explain the unexplainable to a child? Wait no, how do you explain the unexplainable to anyone for that matter. When it comes to life and death, how do you explain that life has its own order, —and that the natural order of life is only natural to us and our minds.
See, part of what I want to do is helping families process the feelings of their loss of a loved one. Dealing with addiction is filled with tragedies. But whichever the final reason may be, no matter Continue reading
From Letters: About words
Note: this category is usually meant for the letters I write to Mom and The Old Man, but today I’m posting this note here because I feel it belongs here. And please be warned, there will be no apologies in advance for my sappiness. And please excuse the heaviness because it was written with all my heart. This one is for you, my very special friend!
We all know words have meaning. We know what Continue reading
Letters From A Son: Christmas Eve
It is early morning, Christmas Eve, and I have been awake for a while now. I woke up in the middle of the night last night (again, of course) but this time was a little different from my usual bouts with insomnia. No, it wasn’t like that at all.
It wasn’t the usual kind of troublesome mid-sleep, wake up; I lay there in bed, my eyes close, only to open up again, and of course, I’m thinking too much about too many different things. Instead, I woke up and Continue reading
Letters from a son: Dear Pop
I think about the farm most during this time of year. I think about the cold October and the snow, which began a few days before Halloween and the unsure fear I held when I walked in the main house for the first time. I think about the cold winter mornings on the farm and the early wake-ups, the fire watch detail in the middle of the night, and the barn crews that began before the sunrise, the punishment sanctions used to teach us lessons, the house Continue reading
This Is From Letters:
Safe to say, I’ve seen more than most along this trip. I met different types of people from different places, different towns, and different states. I began this journey just about a year ago now and more has happened to me than I could ever imagine.
This all began because someone told me, “If Continue reading
Letters From a Son
A lot happened since my last letter to you. In fact, so much has happened in a short amount of time, I’m not even sure where to begin. I don’t even know how to describe it and fit it all in one note.
I’m learning more and more that there are things I cannot say any longer. Each day, I learn more about the meaning behind the words we use and how we seem to forget that everything we say has meaning. No matter how loosely we use a word or how we choose to use our them; Continue reading
A Letter To Whom it May Concern
Dear America,
I was thinking about the way we were back when I was a youngster and walking to school in the morning. Sure, we all had our problems. We all had our differences too and regardless to how divided we may Continue reading
Father’s Day
I’m not sure where the shirt is now but I know that somewhere is a white t-shirt with a painted outline of my daughter’s hands and the words Happy father’s Day written above and below the childlike artwork.
I’m not sure where it is though — it’s probably stuffed in a box somewhere with other little scraps of memories. I’m not sure who chose the size of the t-shirt. I always assumed it was one of the kids that worked at the daycare center because the shirt was not the right size, which is fine because Continue reading
The Written Addiction 