It was all Dean Passick’s fault. Most things were, in seventh grade. There my studious self sat, in the proverbial dunce’s chair, right next to the teacher’s desk, at least four feet away from any other student. You may as well have put “pariah” on my forehead in permanent marker. At least, that’s how it…
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Blink and it’s gone
At the crack of dawn, I was already driving home from the airport, wiping big mama tears from my cheeks. My eldest was headed back to Texas, his fireman gear packed efficiently per his norm. Military precision is his modus operandi. While he was getting ready to board a plane, I was heading back to…
