Columns

During the past couple of weeks, I have found myself standing before several of you talking about what we do and how we try to do it.
And, as I tell any group to which I speak, I make my living by typing, not talking. That was a decision I made in college, when I realized that my flat Kentucky twang and wild blonde hair did not translate smoothly on television, thus ending my dream of being the next Cawood Ledford – with hair – which was after I realized pro sports were out, too.

Dear Mom:

That’s what I’ll call you here, though many of my friends and family may call you Mother or Mama or Momma or Madre or Ma or even something more formal. They may even call you by your name.

But we all probably should call you angel, because without you, we would not exist.

It’s not that you necessarily gave birth to us, it’s that you embraced us from the instant we met, gave us love, shelter, food and everything else essential to growing our lives.

Today I’d like to take a few minutes of your time to talk about what I believe is perhaps the saddest word in the English language.

Now, some might suggest that the saddest word is a medically-related word such as “inoperable” or “‘terminal,” and I certainly am not minimizing those. Others might think the saddest word is more philosophical, such as “almost.”

“The angel said to the women, ‘Do not be afraid, for I know that you are looking for Jesus, who was crucified. He is not here; he has risen, just as he said.’” (Matthew 28:5-6)

Several years ago, the following letter was reportedly sent to a resident of Greenville County, S.C.: “Your food stamps will be stopped, effective March 1992, because we received notice that you passed away. May God bless you. You may reapply if your circumstances change.”