To get to the funny, I have to start with the serious. My dad has Parkinson’s disease, something he possibly contracted from exposure to contaminated water at Camp LeJeune. This is heartbreaking on many levels, not the least of which is Camp LeJeune’s role in our family history. Located in North Carolina, Camp…
I promise I’ll get to the electrician story soon. But Indy and Willie visited Indy’s property in Maryland last week and, well, you should know the story. Back in his Marine Corps days, Indy was stationed in Quantico. Sometimes North Carolina. At one point, his parents moved from Delaware County to Rock Hall, Maryland….
At four years of marriage, she wasn’t really a bride anymore. But for him, today and forever, she would be a bride. His bride. He stood, watching his wife make up the bed. In their minds they had practically discovered this quaint island getaway. When they found that beach homes could be rented, this place had become…
I promised you a story. A story of an electrician. An electrician for Willie and Indy. I am that electrician. Recently, I headed to Willie and Indy’s apartment. My intent was to illustrate the capabilities of both a FitBit and an Apple Watch. Although they ultimately chose the Apple Watch, getting them to…
If the battle to control Indy and Willie looked merely like Robert Baratheon wresting the Westeros throne from the Mad King Aerys, rest assured it has erupted into a full-bore Red Wedding. Just to be clear, I am not the Mad King in this analogy. After Indy’s inane hospitalization a few…
The Outer Banks of North Carolina, specifically Emerald Isle, has been my family’s vacation destination since before I was born. I mostly know this because I’m familiar with the story of my conception, one summer day in the Tar Heel State, when my dad was a young Marine and my mom wasn’t quite yet…
Willie has named her Apple Watch “Wendi.” Her Siri is very bossy, she tells me. Siri tells her to get up and walk around because she’s been sitting too long. Siri tells her to breathe at times throughout the day because, as I have long suspected, Willie is superhuman, doesn’t require air, sleep,…
This story, like David Copperfield – or the far better tome Flowers In The Attic – begins with a birth. Rather than the birth of the protagonist like those great works, this story begins with the birth of my parents’ basement. My parents’ basement has a legacy of its own in the annals of my family history. Friends and family…
I stood in the emergency room cubicle, helping Indy dress. It was well after one o’clock in the morning. We were both exhausted. We were both relieved he was going home. I watched Indy, noted how his Parkinson’s had robbed his once-broad chest of real estate. I thought about my childhood. Indy, the solid…