Father's Day has always been a bittersweet holiday for me. For most of my life, my father was absent, having abandoned our family when I was in elementary school.
An interview with a man and his children in an Internally Displaced Person (refugee) camp quickly devolves into a father desperately trying to sell his smallest child to the cameraman.
It's daunting for me to even begin writing about Fathers' Day ...
"Dad, could we go to the field and practice a little more pitching?" Our Astros Little League baseball team had just won the Northwest Washington, D.C. championship game in the last inning.
Many problems in our society will be solved when young men are willing to become good fathers. Of course, they can do this only if they have an example to follow.
On the day my father died I was 1,200 miles away.
When my oldest son, Jamin, was moving out of the toddler years, I started to have a difficult time hugging and kissing him.
More than the primaries, general election, board meetings, or the budget fight on Capitol Hill, this past week was a high-intensity roller coaster for me. It was Little League playoffs.
If you give a man a fish, you feed him for a day. If you teach a man to fish, you feed him for a lifetime. If you teach his wife how to fish, you feed the whole family for a lifetime.
One of the everyday things Vasco has enjoyed most since arriving in Chicago from Malawi five weeks ago is being able to go into the kitchen and pour a cool glass of crystal clear water, from the si