Contrary to popular belief, there’s something to be said about Monday mornings. Or maybe it’s the sound of tiny feet pounding against wooden floor boards that brings me peace. He’s an infinite source of joy and wonder, wrapped up in such a small package, with features that don't stray too far from my own.

They say acts of service is a love language, and I am in constant practice. He stumbles fro...

I’ve never stopped to consider the nature of silence. An affirmation of the unknown; confirmation of the places we’ll never go, topics we’ll never explore, memories locked behind closed doors. What does it mean to you, knowing what you now do? I can imagine what it was like to come home to half forgotten rooms with barren shelves, reminiscent of a time when they were full. Of laughter, of love, of...