Gratitude is sometimes like tending a garden. You can cultivate it, for sure, with regular attention and care. But sometimes it’s more like playing in the ocean when you were a kid. A big wave sneaks up on you, washes…
Oak Hill is a bucolic suburban neighborhood – stable but always refreshing itself, well-tended, plenty of room to breathe. And dream. Play, if you’re a kid – run, if you’re a dog. But even – especially? – pretty suburban neighborhoods…
Everybody has to die of something. I didn’t say “everyone” on purpose. Every Body has to die of something. Yet we cannot bear to let a loved one die. We don’t much like to think of our own death….