Posts in Tag

father

If we were having coffee, I’d wink at you and smile. Why? Another Friday and more lives linked. Yesterday’s linkup was particularly powerful. I am a life blogger. I am also a writing coach with a passion for understanding what makes people tick. I don’t believe any person is two-dimensional, but social media makes us seem that way. We share only the extra-good or extra-bad creating a flat digital impression of ourselves. Here, friend, let me refill your cup. Stay awhile. What I want to say is people are complicated. It

My father, throughout my life, has clung to small food rituals. Here is how you spread the labneh on the pocket bread. Here is how you open the pocket bread. Now the olives. Now the tomatoes. Now the salt and pepper. Here, now. Here. This is how you drizzle the oil. Then we roll it. Then we eat it and, ahhh. Call me Baba, he would tell me when I called him Dad. It was not a food ritual, but he asked more than once. It feels weird, I would tell

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