All life is a road from the past to the future. And what the future will be depends only on us.

 Lately, it seems that my verbal communication skills have vanished. Oh, I can write just fine - big, grand sweeping verbose stories and literary limericks with the benefit of an easy-access delete key, but when I find myself talking, that’s another thing altogether. Words that aren’t even words come tumbling out of my mouth like a stampeding mass of verbal hysteria gang-rushing the exit sign during a fire, pushing and stomping until they make it to freedom, which results in me saying such things as, “Ooh, sloppy joe’s for dinner? That would be graat.” [silence for about 3 seconds] Jason : “Did you just say, “GRAAT”? Me : “What?…no. No, I don’t think so.” Jason : “Yeah, I think you did. You said graat.” Me : “No, I di-Hey, I like this song on the radio.” Jason : “Don’t change the subject. I want to know what the heck “graat” means.” Me : “Uh, I guess it’s the combination of ‘great’ and ‘grand.’ You know, ‘Dinner at the Palace? That would be GRAAT.’” Jason : “OK…Why would you even c...

From UNICEF: This year alone, more than 500,000 women will die during pregnancy or childbirth. That’s one woman missing every minute of every day. We call these women “missing” because their deaths could have been avoided. In fact, 80 per cent of maternal deaths could be averted if women had access to essential maternal health services. We know where and how these women are dying, and we have the resources to prevent these deaths. Yet, maternal mortality is still one of the most neglected problems internationally.” Via UN Dispatch and Feministing.

 It’s a strange feeling to know that he is dead. The man who caused so much suffering, so much hatred, so much turmoil, mistrust, and grief. His life was about ending the lives of others whose views he could not understand or tolerate. And now, Osama bin Laden’s own end has come. After a long and arduous wait, America is breathing a collective sigh of relief. My boys are celebrating. It’s a “Black Ops” kind of day for them — hunt down the bad guy, shoot to kill, win the game. But the game is far from won. I am not sad that he is gone. I dreamt last night of the widows and widowers of 9/11. Of the children growing up without parents, of the mothers and fathers who lost their own, of the friends, the families, the numerous loved ones left behind to grapple with such pain and devastation. I will never claim to know the magnitude of their loss. And if today’s headline news gives them some sense of closure, then I would never begrudge them that tiny slice of peace. But in my heart of he...