Uncle Bert left Washington, D.C., each July, along with everyone else who worked for the federal government. The nation’s capital is built “on a tangle of woods and swamps.” It’s sweltering in the summer. Bert’s family of four drove to his childhood farm in Iowa, then up to my hometown, a small Minnesota river burg where his wife was born. …
I had the unique and wonderful opportunity to attend a “Welcome to Adulthood” Celebration for a young man in my congregation who turned 18, an event I think more people should celebrate. His parents invited adults who were a part of his life to take part in the ceremony. It began with a reflection of what it means to turn …
The Spanish word for retirement is “jubilación.” I learned Spanish when I rode with Juárez. Benito — we were on a first-name basis — never retired. He died at his desk reading a newspaper, by one account. So I will be avoiding desks and periodicals from here on. In the past year of reading about the challenging responsibility of retirement, …
We all have memories of the good old days. The older one gets, the more unusual they seem. When I was a young lad growing up in Grand Forks, N.D., the only inside rink in the city was the University of North Dakota arena. It was a glorified farm shed with no heating, and when it was cold outside, it …