I sat and listened to a friend of mine share a story about the last time his son held his hand. The boy was twelve. The occasion was more than 15 years old at this point and yet my friend Bob remembered every detail. He... Read More

At this point we have become accustomed to the stares. They seem to be coming less frequently or we have developed the ability to tune them out. Few people actually have anything to say. The ones who do vacillate between being kind and being funny.... Read More

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