One of my favorite things about the spring is the baccalaureate celebration that takes place the week before graduation. I love the chance to see my seniors in their caps and gowns and to praise God for their arrival to the finish line. For every year since I can remember, I've listened to Western's Select Choir perform the song "Showing Us the Way" by Michael V. Ficocelli. When I was a senior, I even got to sing it at my own baccalaureate. That year, and every year since I have taught at Western, I get choked up listening to the perfectly fitting lyrics of this song. Tonight, on a perfect evening at the Cascades Falls, tears ran down my face as I watched the seniors I taught sing the words of this song to their classmates, parents, teachers, and friends. I smiled and cried a little more as I realized that someday there's a good chance I'll be watching my own kids sing it at their baccalaureate. I had to share it with you. This isn't Western's
Giving birth to my daughter was a series of events I will never forget. On Tuesday evening, Colby and I went out to dinner. At some point in the evening, I told Colby that I thought we should head to the hospital. Given my history of delievering babies in a startingly short amount of time, I thought we should go to the hospital sooner rather than later (labors for both Breslin and Dharia were only 4 hours each). When we got there, I was discouraged to find that I wasn't very far along in the labor process, but they decided not to send us home based on said history. It turns out this was a very good thing. 20 minutes after being told that we could be there for a while, I was in the jacuzzi tub when I realized that the baby was coming RIGHT NOW. Long story short, I gave birth to my daughter in the bathroom of my hospital room. Even though it was somewhat horrifying, I find myself wanting to relive the details of her birth over and over again. I never want to forget the feeling of wel
I grew up at 9720 King Rd. From 4th grade through college, I occupied a massive bedroom on the second floor of the sprawling old farmhouse set on four acres. I loved that house. It had so much character, and it was amazing to see it progress over the years. From its sad, dilapidated state when we first moved in, my parents patiently loved and nursed it into a comfortable, clean home. One of my favorite things about the house was the "secret" staircase in our kitchen. It looked like a plain old built in pantry, but when you opened it up, it was actually a set of stairs that led to the second floor from the other end of the house. You can imagine as a fourth grader how I loved that feature of the house. I also loved it when I was older, because it meant that I didn't have to walk past the creaky floors near my parents' bedroom late at night getting home. I also loved to mow the lawn with my dad. As you are well aware, mowing the lawn is one of my favorite pa
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