I was planning on a Father’s Day column, extolling my own dear, departed daddy, when a dear friend, a mentor and deacon in our church finally succumbed to the cancer he had fought quietly for so many years. I was invited to give a eulogy at his funeral home service, which I did with great honor and love.

I am reminded of a song that says “There will be hills and mountains to climb.” Without a doubt, the writer was referring to the challenges that all of us will face sooner or later in life.

(*-The fact that I had to add quotations around taboo in the headline makes what I am writing that much more important.)

A week ago, my son walked across the stage as an honor graduate of South Florence High School. I was so excited, and I am very proud of him!

You know the Gospel passage about Jesus being “lost” in the temple. Of course, he wasn’t lost at all. At 12 years old, he just took it upon himself to stay behind when his family departed Jerusalem so he could interact with the elders in the temple.

She has been here for a few months now, and nothing tells me that she is going to move out anytime soon.

Another Memorial Day has come and gone. One of my questions to all: “How did you spend that long weekend?”

We quietly climbed the old staircase to the B Flat at 221 Baker St., but still the stairs creaked.

Approximately one month ago, I signed up for my first 5K. The Run for the Heroes walk/run took place Monday on Memorial Day. I wasn't prepared mentally or physically to push myself beyond my usual one-mile run, but my goal was to get there.

I come by my gardening abilities quite naturally. My father grew up on a cranberry farm in Massachusetts, skating on flooded and frozen bogs in the winter and harvesting the tough red fruit in the fall with wooden boxes with teeth on the front that could strip the ripe berries off the bushes.

One would find it difficult to not come to the conclusion that some parts of our world, nation, state, county, city and neighborhood need to make some major adjustments. Relationships in some instances have deteriorated to the point of almost being irreparable.

On Monday, my husband, Eric, and I will celebrate our 25th wedding anniversary. It is exciting, because in today’s society the rate of discord and divorce in marriages is staggering.

What happened to the USC student who accidentally got into the wrong car thinking it was her Uber ride was terrible, and it seems as if it could easily happen again.

Walking along the North Shore of the Thames River, we pulled our coats up against the cold wind of a late winter’s day, walking around buildings, many built right down to the water’s edge.

Early in our marriage, I found him in the kitchen rummaging through the cabinets looking for something. Thinking I could be of some help, I asked what he was looking for.

On Easter morning, my husband was released from a nine-day hospital stay. During those nine days, I found strength I didn't know I had.

Many of us have had to make some type of adjustment in our lives. Those adjustments varied, based upon age, experiences and other factors.

Many years ago, when I was a young mother frequently overcome by seven children under 12, I dreamed of a magic illness that didn’t hurt, wouldn’t cause any long-term problems but would require a short stay in the hospital, where I could get lots of sleep, rest, be waited on and recover with no ill effects.

Sometimes the impact of an event extends well beyond its expected boundaries. The assassination of JFK comes to mind. It was not just the death of an important man; it shook the nation to its core regarding its security and future. The same could be said about 9/11.

Although only a small part of America’s immigrant population, the Greeks have had an important impact on America and American culture, particularly in food service, then naturally expanding over time to other business, academics and the professions, and through the Greek Orthodox Church.

Well, I did it.

Contrary to all of my promises to myself, I moved again. The last time (just a year ago) I vowed to myself, my children and my friends that I would never move again. (Crossing my fingers and whispering, “Maybe.”) It was a promise I meant to keep. But … a super opportunity landed softly at my feet, and here I am again.

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Jonathan Nash Glynn – artist, pilot and philanthropist – never envisioned himself as a missionary, but, absent religion, that's what he has become in recent years.

Friday is the U.S. Army’s 244th birthday. Since it was born in 1775, even before the birth of the nation itself, the Army has always responded to fight our wars, provide disaster support, build dams and levees, enforce desegregation and help partner nations develop their own armies.

This is the story of three cousins. Well, they’re pretty sure they’re all cousins, because they think they are linked genetically to the same man. But they’re not 100 percent sure because some of the records are lost.

One must have some age accumulated to remember the old American Legion Stadium that stood on Oakland Avenue, the street Wayne King loved to remind people once was known as Goose Pond Road.

Special thanks to the cast and crew of the musical “Mamma Mia!” that was recently presented by the Florence Little Theatre. It was a magnificent performance directed by Jumana Swindler and the production team.

Darlington has created a new playground area on Hampton street; I saw pictures on Facebook. The caption read, “The Hampton Street Playground in Darlington is open for business! Thank you Darlington City Council for investing in our kids.” Eye roll No. 1.

In regard to Donna Carter's letter to the editor Saturday ("Departures are disappointing"), I agree with her on the two doctors mentioned, Dr. Rajesh Malik and Dr. Brian Wall, and their departure from the McLeod Regional Medical Center. They have both gone above and beyond their respective "Call of Duty" as they treat their patients, literally having the patients' lives in their hands.

In a Jan. 20 article by Tyler Durden, he explains why many Republicans in select California districts watched what they thought were their victories of election night erode away over the next days and weeks as absentee votes were counted. This was reported as the result of vote harvesting, which allows anyone to go door-to-door collecting mail-in ballots on behalf of voters.