Former Career Fire and EMS Lieutenant-Specialist, Writer, and Master Photographer.
Tag: Diary
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Some of the most significant moments in life slip in quietly, like soft footsteps on a worn-out wooden floor — so subtle you hardly notice until they have already rewritten everything you thought you knew. Our story started, as most modern stories do, with a reply on Twitter. Amelia had posted a #WritersLift—an open call…
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There are places in this world that never quite let you go, no matter how many years pass, no matter how far your life carries you away. For me, that place has always been Stamford, New York—the small town where I grew up, where this chapter of my story began sometime in 1987, long before…
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This morning, I keep thinking about the storm I carry inside me—how it’s always been there, humming just beneath the surface, daring the world to notice. It is not new. It didn’t just arrive one day. It was born with me, braided into my breath, threaded into every bone. Some days, I wonder if people…
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Some nights I sit with the silence and feel like I’m eavesdropping on my own past. The 1990s were the best decade of my life, and I don’t say that with any polished nostalgia or rose-tinted yearning for mixtapes, AOL Chatrooms, and pagers. I say it because I was still half-feral then—caught somewhere between a…
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This past weekend, I drove back to the place where my story began. The road to my mother’s house is the same as it’s always been. That drive always stirs something in me. A reminder of who I was before the world turned hard and unforgiving. I didn’t just go to see my mom. I…
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There comes a moment in every life—every soul forged in fire, tested by wind, worn down by time and lifted by impossible grace—when you look at the sky and realize the storm isn’t passing over. It’s waiting. Waiting for you to stop standing there like a goddamn monument and move. That’s where I am today.…
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Out of nowhere, my former niece—who, for all intents and purposes, has become my unofficially adopted daughter—reached out and asked if I could pick her up. The timing was uncanny. She called while I was out with Amelia, and the moment I learned she needed a ride as soon as possible, I wasted no time.…
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I was twenty-three when they sent me home. Three summers of devotion, three years of sunburns and scraped knees, of singing around the fire and waking up before dawn to make sure my campers were safe, fed, and cared for. I had built my world around the summer camp where I spent every summer since…
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There are ghosts among us—not the ghosts often rooted in folklore, nor the ones one would expect to haunt and linger in old house, but the ones we often create through our own existence. We carry them only in quiet moments, such as the way a song that we haven’t heard in awhile gives us…
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I’m not built for mediocrity; anything less than my personal best is unacceptable. If something is worth doing, then it deserves my full force, my entire intellect, and my unwavering focus. I don’t fear obsession; I embrace it. I understand that greatness often requires extremes, and that mastery often demands an almost unreasonable level of…
