Over the past few weeks I have been reading J.R.R. Tolkien’s “The Hobbit” to my sons.
In the summer of 2014, my wife, four young sons and I said good-bye to family, friends, and neighbors as we packed up our house in Kansas City and moved to Omaha, Nebraska
Last spring, on April 25, my wife and I experienced one of the saddest moments of our lives together.
The other day when I came home from work, my wife showed me a letter that my eight-year-old son, Michael, had written
This Advent Season, as I prepare for Christmas, I dedicate this article to my mom and dad.
Nearly six years ago, my wife, two sons, and I were traveling to Denver to celebrate the Holidays with my family.
Recently I took all four of my young sons to a swimming pool by myself.
Over Labor Day weekend my wife spent a couple of days on a private retreat at the Franciscan Retreat Center in Independence.
A favorite bedtime story that I have been telling my young sons for years is about traveling to the mountains of Colorado and going camping and fishing.
I recently read about a young Italian mother whose first two children died at a young age due to birth defects.