Happiness. It's relative.
We sat in beach chairs facing the Pacific Ocean. Our teenage kids jittered around us, the change in their pockets rattling, their eyes darting up to the hill that held San Juan del Sur’s business district and the town’s only internet cafe. They weren’t… Continue Reading “Grab Them and Run Up the Hill”
We took our sons back to the place where they were abandoned as babies. In their late teens, they had no memory of anything in Nicaragua much less the place where they had last seen their birth mothers. It seemed graceless and unfeeling to get… Continue Reading “Going Back to the Place You Were Left”
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