To Carry A Name

I remember when my grandmother used to take me to the grocery store with her, and she always signed her check, “Mrs. D.E. Grubbs” in long, curly script. The signature fascinated me in so many ways. First, no one ever called my grandfather D.E. Grubbs. His...

That One Day At a Time Thing

  Last year, I spent Father’s Day in a hospital holding our daughter Serenity’s hand while she recovered from surgery to remove a portion of her lung. The surgeon hoped to eradicate the pesky specks of cancer that kept popping up. Serenity hoped to...