They weren't panhandling. They weren't holding signs or looking for handouts. They were just there, standing in the middle of an abandoned lot near a Subway. And as Cara put voice to my thoughts, I suspected that God was speaking to my daughter in that moment.
Facebook has officially made Valentines Day my least favorite day of the year. Before I was married, I always assumed I disliked the day because I was single. I assumed when I was no longer single, I'd like it. I was so, so wrong.
She talked about the messiness of marriage in a way that I deeply connected with. She never shied away from the hard stuff. But she always did that in the context of why her marriage - and marriage in general - is worth the fight. Or maybe that's just what I took away from it. Anyway, always until now.
Today I'm celebrating my seventh anniversary instead of planning a funeral. Chris survived an accident four days ago that should've killed him. I can still barely wrap my mind around it.
We were downtown tonight for dinner and afterwards decided to enjoy the beautiful summer evening with a stroll downtown. We left the restaurant and started walking ...
The first place I remember randomly running into him outside of our workplace was at the library. He was walking out with a stack of books and I recognized him as the new guy I'd met at work a few days prior. He was brand new to town and I was impressed that he was already at the public library.
I keep posting things about Trump on my Facebook account. And then two minutes later I delete them because I don't want to be "that person" who posts political things, devoid of any context. I wish I could just not care and go on with my life without having to feel like I have to speak my mind.
It's the last day of the year, so it's time for the yearly Giovagnoni family wrap up. (Doing it three years in a row makes it a "thing" right?)
The things I saw today will be seared in my memory for the rest of my life. It happened in a home in San Martin, El Salvador. To get there, we drove through a narrow dirt alley, parking at the end of two long, tin walls. The entrance to the home was a door-sized opening in the tin a few yards down. We stepped over the threshold into a dark room.