My father’s spirit left his body in a darkened room six weeks ago. On the wings of his last breath, it ascended – a small cloud of color and energy. Believing, disbelieving – that is what my eyes saw….
Joseph Glenn Herndon
2 Articles
2
My father, who loved my mother so deeply – and imperfectly – finishes this way. He provides, more than generously. The fruits of his labor reach into the present. Yet he nearly wrecks her with his decline. For five years…