Twenty years ago, I took my daughter, Sara, to the ocean for her fourth birthday. She just learned to dog paddle, and proudly walked up to anyone in sight, saying, "I can swim." The sea was calm, so I ...  [+]

It had been nearly fourteen years, but there you were on my morning commute. On your way to work like nothing had happened. Both of us on our ways to work as if nothing had happened.

You looked ...  [+]

The night before Jen touched down on Earth, I was holed up in Rachel's bedroom in Houston. We had both made a valiant, fruitless effort to sleep; now it was three in the morning. Sometime around one ...  [+]