Letters

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The Monuments of Progress

Monday is my brother’s birthday. It would be his 32nd. Would be. We lost Robert nearly 4 years ago to a particularly aggressive case of testicular cancer. He’s the guy in the black shirt in the picture, staring at my younger brother in frustration that Jimmy was born with the genetics of a frickin’ giant.…

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Bomb Shelters

Somedays my heart looks like a flower. A thing of beauty, living and growing. Somedays it looks more like a bomb shelter. A cold, dark husk, closed and terrified.   I’ve discovered there’s a world of difference between honesty and vulnerability. It’s the difference between grief and mourning, despair and hope, death and life. I…

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Good Enough

I hate myself. Not always, but it’s there. It creeps up on me on days like these, when the week’s been long and left me weary. I find myself alone and it creeps out of my bones like a long-dormant virus. Saps me of my strength. Robs me of my joy. Every time I find…

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Stories

The other night, I sat for hours with my grandfather and listened to his stories. Most of them I’d never heard before. A few of them were scandalous. One will cling to me for the rest of my life. My family loves to tell stories. We use them as illustrations. We use them to tease…

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Twenty-eight

It’s my birthday tomorrow. Honestly, I’m not terribly excited about this one. Some part of me secretly hopes it will pass quickly, quietly. Part of me hopes it’ll be easily forgotten. That’s stupid, I know. A symptom of some deep brokenness. But I’m just trying to be honest. I turn 28 tomorrow. Whether I like…

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This Orphan Heart

“How long?” he asked. “How long have you lived as if you were an orphan?” “What?” I replied “No. I’m not…” “But you act like it.” I couldn’t have been more confused. Neither did I want to admit that I was slightly offended. But this was Phil, a man with inestimable credit in my book.…

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For the Broken (of which I am one)

I was talking to a friend a few weeks ago. After a long bout of saving some strange world from the next apocalyptic alien invasion,1 he stayed online. He said repeatedly how badly he needed to go to bed. Yet, he never signed out. We kept the basic gamer nerd chit chat going for a few…

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Call me Eeyore (for now)

I am not the man I used to be. That, I think, is true for everyone. But I should hope the end result finds you better off, not worse.   We live in seasons. Some, like spring, are seasons with prosperity and laughter and joy. Some, like winter, cold and bleak and … well… sad.…

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Confession

I’ll be honest: This won’t be the most uplifting thing I’ve ever written. Nor will it make you feel warm and fuzzy inside. But that’s okay. I’m not writing this for you. I’m writing this for me. You see, for the last three months (if not longer), I’ve been battling depression. Day in, day out,…

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