As I sat in the stuffy auditorium on a warm June evening, my mind raced. I had tuned out the energetic preacher on the stage who was delivering this Baccalaureate speech two days before my graduation from Ursinus College.

My grandson, Silas, loves playing in the dirt. At two-years old, his passion for digging in the yard with toy bulldozers, backhoes and dump trunks is astounding.

The incessant meowing grew louder by the minute, accompanied by a repetitive scratch-scratch-scratch at the bedroom door. “Ugh,” I snapped, “stop it, you silly cat!”

Being an avid baseball fan, one of my bucket list items, silly as it may sound, was to attend an opening day game.

As the Santa Ana breeze whips against my back and the golden warmth of the mid-day San Diego sun kisses my shoulders, I stand in awe of the Creator as I look upon the majesty of the vivid teal expanse staring back at me and my grandson.

“Anong balita,” my husband, Miko, utters, answering the phone with his traditional Filipino greeting. Hanging up after a few minutes of chatter in his native Tagalog, a language I don’t understand, he excitedly announces, “I’m going to be a sponsor at Tony’s wedding.”

It seems everything these days is reported or gauged as pre-COVID or post-COVID. For all of us who weathered the worst of the pandemic, the question that taunts us is if life will ever return to the “normal” that we once knew.

Waking up this crisp Pennsylvania June morning, my heart fills with anxious anticipation. I gaze across the room, admiring my perfectly pressed sky blue high school graduation gown.

As evening approaches, I gently lay my sleeping 4-week old daughter into a basket beside my chair. Taking a deep breath, my mind fills with sweet memories from a year ago.

What a frustrating morning! My plan to get to the Denver airport two hours before flight time was foiled by a sudden thunderstorm that backed up traffic, delaying my arrival until just minutes before boarding time.

It’s a few minutes before eight this Monday morning, a slight drizzle in the air, but I’m so excited that I barely notice the raindrops falling on my head as I rush to the entrance of SUSEJ Technology.

Helpless, I had watched as a crown of thorns was placed on his head. So much blood trickled down his face that I had to turn my head away.

The events of today, July 19, 1942, will be forever seared into my memory.

Shortly after bedtime, five-year old Simon is cuddling his stuffed blue elephant when he overhears the conversation that his father and older sister are having in the next room.

Having adopted Buddy unexpectedly today at a dog rescue event, my first challenge is getting the adorable five-month old puppy home.

At 5:45 on this beautiful Southern California summer morning, Jack awakens, jumps out of his bed and rushes up the stairs. He is excited to start a new day but at three years old, every day is a new adventure.

Those words still resonate in my mind seven months after they were spoken by President Roosevelt.

Three-year old David awakens from a late morning nap to the sound of hushed voices in the room. Rubbing his eyes, he turns his head slowly to the left to see his mother, father and aunt sitting at a table a few feet away from him.

It was April 8, 1955, a warm spring day in the small town of Sayre, Pennsylvania. As the school bell rang this Friday afternoon before Easter, siblings Andy and Jane ran excitedly across the schoolyard towards the exit.

Have you ever had a mole, gopher or groundhog in your yard? Those pesky little creatures dig holes and leave messy piles of dirt around them.