My dad died four days after my birthday. There’s a bittersweet balance to that. I’m born; my father dies. I’ve always been aware of mortality. I’d chalk it up to Calvinism but really, you can only blame so many things on Calvinism. For whatever reason, I was always pretty aware…

On February 23, 2015, I wrote this in a blog post draft: It’s the end of February, and I slept with the windows open last night. A gorgeous Florida night: cool and humid, followed by an unusually gray morning filled with birdsong. I sit here, preparing for the week, and…