His middle name was “Patrick,” and he loved being Irish-American, so as St. Patrick’s Day approaches, I inevitably have been thinking about him more and more. This is our first St. Patrick’s Day without Andrew Patrick Pecosh, who passed away last September. To be honest,...
I am—statistically speaking—more than halfway through my life. And I’ve been a professional counselor now for just shy of 13 years. I honestly don’t know how many clients I’ve had over that time, or how many hours I’ve spent in sessions, listening to people, hearing...
When I was a younger man, I got myself into some trouble now and again. Don't let your imaginations run wild; I got into some small town, "You're twenty-one years old and do some dumb things" kind of trouble, not the "We're filing charges" kind...
In the late spring of 1989, just a few weeks shy of my fourteenth birthday, I got my first paying job. My neighbor's son-in-law, Ray, had spotted me at some yard work and asked, "Hey--you looking for a job?" as he drove by in his...