Dear Dad, I owe you an apology. Remember after I moved to Washington, and every time I talked to you, you said, "When are you moving back to Utah?" I remember when you finally stopped asking me that. It was after one of your visits to Washington, and, at last, you seemed to understand why I loved living in D.C. We were standing at a busy intersection in Georgetown, and you said, "I can see why you love it here. This is your kind of place. You really are a city girl." So, now that I am … [Read more...]

In today's Washington Post magazine, I read a sweet story answering the Post's question, "What has meaning for you?" The writer, Amanda Long, wrote about treasuring her father's appointment book. It reminded me of when my dad died many years ago, and one of my assigned tasks was to clean out his safe deposit box at the bank. Deeply sad and in a state of shock, I walked into the town bank where I knew most of the people who worked there. One by one, they expressed their sympathy … [Read more...]