Years go by easier when there are 2,000 miles separating a father and son. Then an American flag turns up in your lap.
A youthful pledge to become an essayist gets lost.
A family that relies on the satisfactions of the logical—calculus, physics, chemistry—finds itself haunted by ghosts.
Eventually a man who’s always in motion, always fixing something, will stop. Decline of the patriarch reveals an entire family’s vulnerability.
Good books are frequently credited with being worth reading twice. But when was the last time anyone had time for that?
Across generations, when children can’t find their comfort objects—usually soft toys like blankets or favorite stuffed animals—all hell breaks loose.
A home birth begets a crash course in DIY medical waste disposal.
When illness erases the fine line between love and obsession.
Offered an opportunity to help a father reach out to his young daughter, a writer agrees to assist. But the challenge isn’t as simple as grammar and commas.
Ever since my dad got an iPad last year, he sees it fit to multitask: Read an article, and text me about it.
A newborn wavers between life and something else. For the father, a walk in the woods elucidates the struggle between nature and nurture.
A project to document Wisconsin’s broad variety of deer stands takes on new meaning after a round of chemotherapy.