It’s late May 1960. I’m 16 years old and about to meet the 3rd most formative man in my early life. My father is #1. The Shopkeeper is #2. This man will become #3.
I’ve just graduated from high school and am looking for a job. Read the rest of this entry »
On October 31, death put a punctuation point at the end of Bill Supplee’s earth-life. A full stop, like coming to the end of a book.
Bill gave me something to live for. Read the rest of this entry »
That’s how I’d headline my teenage and young adult approach to making decisions. Safe, not sorry! I still carry remnants of this in me, even though I know nothing is necessarily safe, and there’s no guarantee I’ll never be sorry. Life isn’t safe; Read the rest of this entry »
Part 1 focused on my infatuation with a gifted young man. I can’t say I actually met him at the mission conference. He probably never knew my name. Yet I daydreamed about a possible future with him, Read the rest of this entry »
I don’t do dreams; I do daydreams. Especially about young men.
It’s summer 1957. I’m 13 ½ years old, going into 10th grade. I’m back in the achingly beautiful and romantic mountains of North Carolina. Read the rest of this entry »
Fall in the 1990s. I’m in my 50s. A friend gives me a covered tea-cup. It’s lovely. When I get home I read the inscription on the cup and begin weeping. This isn’t about me. It’s about someone else. I can’t even imagine my way into this approach to life. Read the rest of this entry »
Telling the Truth 