My oldest daughter is going away to college for the first time this fall. She’s not the first child to ever go away and won’t be the last. She is mine, however, and we have been planning this with all the precision and high-level communications of a military operation.
When I was five years old I fell asleep with Karen and Richard Carpenter staring at me from a poster above my bed. Why was the poster above my bed and not my sister’s? Because I was the little sister. What was hers was hers, and what was mine was hers. Our twin beds were
We didn’t go on an expensive vacation. We didn’t go to Europe or backpack through Central America. We didn’t even leave the state except to visit family. We visited colleges. Seven of them. Without trying we did the scenic tour of Ohio. A few visits were day trips, but most required an overnight stay. I
My father’s jackknife is my only tangible reminder of him. I have pictures, memories and stories of the man who died when I was a teenager. It is this jackknife, however, that defines my dad for me. It is not a name brand knife. It is worn in spots, to the point that the design