There's an empty feeling every time I've finished delivering my kids to their mother, with little reminders all over my home: a living room strewn with toys, a juice box half empty on the table, clothes on bedroom floors.
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Our 5-year-old daughter, Dorothy, curiously peeked into the coffin at her grandpa's still form. The last time she'd seen him, the two had sat together in the Arizona sunshine. His baritone voice had spoken with excitement of the unique plants in the desert landscape. Now, he lay lifeless before her.
Read More"Will you please empty the dishwasher?" I asked my 15-year-old son one afternoon after school. By the response I got, you would have thought I'd asked the boy to climb a mountain. A heavy sigh accompanied eye rolling just seconds before he let out a mouthful of sass. Oh, the joy of being a parent to a child with no shortage of attitude.
Read MoreOne of my early memories is that of gardening with my grandpa in Minnesota. He had a large plot of land with a big vegetable garden and several honey bee colonies. He patiently let me work alongside of him, giving me advice and helping when needed. To this day, I love gardening partly because of how my grandpa took the time to pass along his knowledge, making me feel like ...
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