Author: Doug McVadon

  We made it to the mountains of western Carolina for Renee’s wedding in Sylva, after driving through the (now) tropical storm for more than three hours.    The sunset seemed like a miracle since it was our first view of the hurricane sky and the riot of orange swirling clouds felt like a revelation. … Continue reading The Hurricane Sky

Through the broken clouds of the Virginia night, I watched the waxing moon make its way westward until at last, it was nestled between Jupiter and Saturn, emblazoned as a trinity on the indigo sky.  Jupiter, so bright and obvious, jumping out against the dark, almost competing for prominence with the nearly full moon, showed… Continue reading Thanks Dad!

She is not having a bad day because of the rain outside, she is not evaluating her day.   She is a dog, and does not know about thinking, or self or identity or ego,   but she does get her feelings hurt.   When Lacey was new and I was a novice dog owner,… Continue reading They Know About Love

She laughs at me with my loud yawn.   “You and your sound effects” she says on her way to the bathroom.    I protest that she is making fun of me, in that whiny husband-tone.    You are so loud I can hear it in my office when you are in the bathroom, groaning… Continue reading Tribal Manners

I ended up next to Cynthia at the wedding, down at the end of the long wooden table with all the chartreuse trimmings, flowers and even vegetables in the centerpieces, all in that light yellow-green color.  It was a humid chartreuse evening we spent under the big tent in the ritzy suburbs west of Philadelphia,… Continue reading A Strange Honor

I guess I’d better just lay off the alcohol. One beer, which I didn’t finish, and a bottle of red wine Nancy and I failed to finish, and still I got a headache and got sick. Maybe it is stress and tension or something else, but the common denominator is the booze.   I am… Continue reading I Guess I’d Better Just Lay Off the Alcohol

“I’ll be out with the dog!”   Shouted from the bottom of the stairs, she knows I just need to go.   Stan went fishing, because he could not take in what had happened.  (Stan Went Fishing)   And so it is in real time, I cannot take it in, all these things people say,… Continue reading Getting Through to Me

Let’s not talk about it. Let’s not even talk about our implicit unspoken agreement to not talk about it. There it is on the table, the stinking, rotting fish. Or the hippopotamus or elephant in the room, even the naked lady we all see. But we are not going to talk about it, and we are… Continue reading Let’s Not Talk About It

Are you a Christian? I had finished my burger and now approached the counter at the food court for a refill of my Coke.  They were slow at this concession, but the food was fresh and good, so worth the wait.  Suddenly, there was someone standing next to me, and the low voice surprised me. … Continue reading Christmas at the Food Court

Walking down that hall again, I didn’t know what to expect. I knew Dad would be in his chair, watching the big TV, but would he launch into the litany of complaints we sarcastically refer to as his “organ recital”? Or would he be slumped over, dozing with the audio plugged into his ear?  … Continue reading Good to See You Dad