Author: Eileen Eileen

Last weekend, I took my 92-year-old dad to the mall to pick out a new pair of shoes. After we…

The chaos started with one simple mission: help my dad finally clean out his old detached garage. The place hadn’t…

Marina never meant to lose herself. Most people don’t. It happens quietly—one responsibility at a time—until you wake up one…

Donald Trump’s tense relationship with the media took another explosive turn this week, igniting a wave of criticism after a…

I’m seventy-three years old, spending my final days in hospice care after a long fight with lung cancer. I’ve lived…

The world of entertainment is often defined by its noise—the roar of the crowd, the crescendo of the music, the…

For seven agonizing months, a local family lived in the suspended animation of uncertainty, caught in the harrowing limbo that…

If you had told me ten years ago that I would spend my seventy-second year sleeping on a wire cot…

I have always worn my badge of “Modern, Trusting Parent” with a distinct sense of pride. In a world of…

My father was a man of few words, a person who believed that language was often a poor substitute for…