It's Not What Your Parents Give You.

Cary Benjamin Sleeps Dreamily On My Stomach As We're Both Bonding And Recuperating. He's Phenomenal.

My Son Cary's Generation Likely Won't Know Who My Father Was, But It's Something Nice For Him That His Grandfather Was An Icon. I Had One Chance To Pass Along That Name.

The Grief Of Losing My Father Has Come In Waves Over The Years, As It Does With Most People. His Love And Devotion As A Father Provided My Closest, Most Intimate Relationship. Dad, And Our Time Together, Is In My Bones. While Reflecting On Him, The Memories Themselves Seem To Boil Down Into Certain 'essences Of Dad.'

It's Not What Your Parents Give You. It's What You Do With Your Own Stuff.

It's Something He Used To Say When He Was Happy. It Could Be A Very, Very Simple Day. We Might Be Sitting Out On The Front Lawn. Dad Loved Classical Music And We Might Be Listening To Some Stravinsky Or Something And Having Some Tea And Eggs. And He'd Say, 'oh, Good Stuff, Isn't It?'