The Gift of a Son’s Sobriety

For the last ten years, I have been steeped in sadness–and without hope–for my older son, who is a heroin addict. Last year, he overdosed four times on Fentanyl and went into cardiac arrest, barely being resuscitated in the emergency room after his heart ceased to beat. Still, even these close calls did not stop…

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Fires of Winter

I’m happy, once in a while, to send you a poem I find meaningful. The sonnet below is intended to help us look at the inner “fires” of winter. Written by a poet who was friends with Emily Dickinson, it displays obvious similarities to the latter’s work. If you haven’t read anything by either of…

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