Genevieve was being a grump. She was tired. Well she should have been, it was bedtime. Bedtime is always a struggle. I don't think my own parents would disagree with that. With seven kids, bedtime must have been torturous. Well, getting the girls to bed sometimes involves screaming (us at them) and sometimes I just grab them by the hand and walk them upstairs and step them through the process. This was not one of the hand holding nights. After fighting to get them upstairs, immediately we hear Genevieve screaming and crying. She was hurt. So we quickly run up the stairs, "What happened?" we exclaim. Only screams and crying could come out. "WHAT HAPPENED?" we say a little louder, as if that could jolt the explanation out over the tears. I suddenly had a flash! It was a memory, a feeling. I still cannot tell whether it was a memory of my Dad or my Mom or a combination of both. Empathy. My voice got higher as my body got lower to the ground. At her level, I c...
This site is an exploration of love and the practical every day application of it. I have this idea that love needs to be practiced just like everything else. I want to prove it and figure out ways to love better through practice. by David Barron