June 22, 2019 On the Road Again It was only two hours into the road trip and due to poor decisions, both Arie and Sam were curled up in the middle row, snoring and sound asleep. If Mom and Dad weren’t here, I’d consider drawing on their faces in permanent marker. But Mom and Dad sat in the front, talking about what music to play and what we were going to do when we got there. The only thing I cared about in their entire conversation was the topic of lunch. Breakfast had been nothing more than bagels.
October 28, 2018 Solitary Today is the day he loses his daughter. He could tell by the silence—stronger than usual and more prominent—and the quiet packing in her room she conducted that morning, trying to be as invisible as possible. He has no idea why she would decide to leave. He has given her everything, in his eyes, and she just refuses to see it.
