VerneMy father, Verne, grew up playing fast-pitch softball as a farm kid in western Illinois. He loved the game, and the pitcher’s role in the game. Even while serving in East Africa as a bush pilot, he played every chance he got, usually with other ex-pats. Lorraine is my mother. Wes and his wife, Mary, are my uncle and aunt, who have passed away. The others mentioned in the writing are childhood friends of my father and missionaries who used to play ball with him. “Hum that pea” is a colloquialism my father used. It translates to “pitch that ball.”

My father passed away on July 13, 2018. This piece was written after that event and is totally fictional. It was a way for me to process my own grief at what I knew would soon be coming. It helped me ground the passing from death to life in specific language. Continue reading “PLAY BALL”

Ladders and Grace, Part 1


My Dad had an atypical extension ladder. It was a wonder. Of course, it did the normal ladder thing – allowed you to climb up and reach a place you could not access on your own. However, it also had hinges along its edges at intervals. These hinges allowed the user to make the ladder long, medium or short. The ladder could bend horizontally at a hinge so you could crawl across it after you ascended vertically. It could create a U shape (or more practically, an upside-down U shape.) It could become an upside-down V and be perfect for a painting job. It could fold up and become easy to store. Do you see why I call it a wonder? Continue reading “Ladders and Grace, Part 1”

Fear of Exposure

pexels-photo-262103.jpegBlogging = exposure. Yikes! Can you see why I avoid it?

In the early years of blogging, most blogs were like online journals.  This terrified me! Why would anyone put their inmost thoughts online for public consumption?  I journaled in notebooks.  I wept. I anguished. If I were a swearing person, I would have used foul language. I prayed. But not for anyone else to read. The idea that anyone would want to plaster their insides on a virtual billboard made me physically ill. Continue reading “Fear of Exposure”