The following is written by a guest blogger. The opinions expressed here are those of the writer and do not reflect the opinions of Bob Lacey, Sheri Lynch or the Bob & Sheri show. When the dope sickness would crawl over my mama like fire ants...
Hey Kid! I’ve been thinking about you a lot lately. Life’s kinda crappy, huh? I am going to tell you a few things that will hopefully help, help you get your light back. It has started to fade. I know that, as you sit wrapped in your piled...
A laminated purple octagon hung from red yarn by the door. It caught my attention because it was peculiar just hanging there by itself, but I shrugged it off. It was a Kindergarten classroom, and they, by their very nature, are peculiar places...
There are really only two kinds of people in the world: those who would gladly stop at a roadside produce stand to pick up peaches that were requested from a loved one and those who think that such a request is the most overwhelming, ludicrous...
My mom’s favorite piece of advice was, “Do as I say, not as I do”. All things considered with my mom, that was pretty solid counsel. My hope is that I don’t often have to tell my daughter, Conley, to do as I say rather than as I do. And, I also...
“Macaroni and cheese makes your boobs grow. Everyone knows that,” they said. I was a picky, scant eater when I was a kid. In attempt to get me to eat more, my stacked grandmother and her six equally well-endowed sisters shared with me that the...
My little brother, Zack, would have turned 30 last Wednesday. It seems so absurd that he could be that old and that he never got to be that young. Zack has been dead for almost nine years now. He died alone on the cold unforgiving floor of a small...
116 Powhatan Avenue was once alive with hope. It beamed with the possibility of being filled with children’s laughter, nights of popcorn and movies and coffee and paperback mornings. 116 was a white cottage house that set in the bowl of a steep...
They both have the kind of smiles that spread wide across their face and make their eyes dance like the first fireflies of summer. Their hugs are where, in times of emergency, I want to shelter in place. They are two of the great loves of my life...
Plumes of black smoke stuttered up from the muffler of my grandmother’s abused Buick Riveria as she rocketed down the unfamiliar winding road. Zack and Angie, my much younger brother and sister, squealed gleefully as they tumbled over every each...