Last week, I received the heartbreaking news that a friend’s very young son had died. This child was a tiny warrior with an old-soul demeanor. He endured more challenges in his short time here than many of the rest of us will face in a full lifetime. Despite his suffering, however, he seemed to float above it all– Zen-like, calm and full of love. When I heard of his passing, I was stricken with an immediate and crushing sadness, not only for his death but…
January 22, 1992. My most vivid memory from that day was of standing completely naked in my living room. The scene around me was frenetic and chaotic, but I remember feeling like I was in slow motion. It was early in the morning, maybe around 5:30am or so. The front door was wide open. It was frigid out and dark. I remember the flashing lights from the firetruck and ambulance in front of the house. I can still see the firemen walking into the house…