To Be Given an Hour

The other day, a friend posted something that said, “If you had an hour to spend talking with someone, who would it be with” (or something like that). I immediately thought of my dad, Paul Bonde. And since then, at different moments, I’ve thought about him, and most of those thoughts have traveled with tears, tears that flow like a river inside but barely show on the outside, tears that speak of joy, sadness, hope. Because I’ve been feeling so much about it, I thought I’d share it with you.   Continue reading