I wasn't sure what to expect when I started writing obituaries, but it taught me more about life and death than I ever could have predicted.
It's winter on the East Coast, and I'm kind-of lazy because it's cold outside, and she's bored and staring at me constantly with a desperate pleading look. Help?
With a happy family and a career, I generally feel like I've got it made. According to the current cultural dialogue, however, I do not "have it all" -- I have two halves that don't make a whole.