Forgot your password?

We just sent you an email, containing instructions for how to reset your password.

Sign in

  • We left the veteran's home and called Joe to make sure he was home. It took over an hour in the dark and fog to get there. My cousin Yvonne was in St. Louis at a concert and would not be back until tomorrow so he was bach'n it. We breached his fortress of solitude and made ourselves at home. That's the way it should be in all families and so seldom is. The three of us drank martini's and talked non-stop while Joe threw together supper.

    We inhaled the food like we hadn't eaten in a week and barely slowed our conversation.

    I realized that, as I was speaking these alcohol imbibed "great truths", my mind was using that same time to examine my own beliefs. Not that I know anything from this examination...that will surely be revealed to me at some future date. But it is a relief to know that somewhere, somehow I am still trying to discover who I am.

    I went to bed thinking Popeye's "I yam what I yam" is no longer enough.

    Ciao,
    Papa
    • Share

    Connected stories:

About

Collections let you gather your favorite stories into shareable groups.

To collect stories, please become a Citizen.

    Copy and paste this embed code into your web page:

    px wide
    px tall
    Send this story to a friend:
    Would you like to send another?

      To retell stories, please .

        Sprouting stories lets you respond with a story of your own — like telling stories ’round a campfire.

        To sprout stories, please .

            Better browser, please.

            To view Cowbird, please use the latest version of Chrome, Safari, Firefox, Opera, or Internet Explorer.