I was introduced to Domenic Ciannella, M. Div, about 10 or 15 years ago. A former hospice chaplain, he was a grief counselor who’d founded a service called Acorn Pastoral Care. He’d also been writing
Note: This blog is part of a series on a recent bicycle tour across Austria, along the Danube. To read from the beginning, click here.
Note: This is the second of two parts. Click here to read from the beginning. Grateful that Jacques had not split his head open and died, I ran to him. He was attempting to stand. “Lie down,” I
Note: This is the first of two parts. Jacques—the guy I met while online dating a year ago—has learned how to walk again. Except for some residual pain he will likely feel for many months, he is
I haven’t written a blog since last November because my inspirations dried up for time. Life took a turn toward the shit pile mid-way through last year. I feel like ranting about it for a
My family lost its patriarch in October.
Note: This is the second of two parts. Click here to read from the beginning. There came a moment when I felt the need to back up, step away from TJ and leave him in the good hands of the police
Note: This is the first of two parts. In late July, I returned home from a visit to my family in New Hampshire on a Tuesday night. I had work to do. I chose to do it while sitting on my bed,
“Grammy, did you know I’m a mind reader?” my grandson Eli asked me one afternoon while we sat playing cards at the dining room table. “Really?” I responded. “Well, read my mind.” We put our
I recently got an email from a priest in the Episcopal church named Domenic Ciannella. He contacted me because he was interested in being featured in the Springfield Republican’s Voices of the Valley