I wrote a series of letters to my mother around Mother’s Day, ten years after her death: my attempt to get to a place of forgiveness.  Dear Mom, I guess we were a mismatch from the beginning. You wanted a boy; you got me: a scabby-kneed tree-climber, a girl who played with mud and tar…
Read More

Her implication was clear. She was upset with me. While I was abashed and said I was sorry, our relationship was considerably cooler from then on.
Read More

This is a story about a time that I tried to forgive and did such a bad job of it that I ruined the friendship entirely.
Read More

Can you forgive a friend? My answer is a resounding “yes.” In fact, it goes beyond something you can do to something you must do.
Read More