Mr. Joyce Takes on the World

                                                                                                                       A Finger Snap in Time  I’d normally write some sort of introspective piece about my impending birthday. And this is no different.  I’m not where I expected to be in life. I don’t think most of us are where we’d like to be; either emotionally, physically, or geographically. I don’t ascribe to clichés about “life dealing us a hand.” Instead, I feel that life is half of what you do, and half of what it does to you. There are choices that we make, and consequences that follow. Not all of us had the same opportunities in life, and so we don’t all wind up where ...

      My niece Miranda is blue-eyed, brown-haired, and about seven pounds (as of writing). She sleeps a lot, cries when needed, and then passes out again. She likes powdered formula, being held, and her binky. She’s adorable, and still has that new baby scent. I never would have guessed that I’d love someone at first sight. Or, that I’d love someone who belches like a trucker. We all have our quirks.  It’s been twenty odd years since I last held a baby. I thought I’d forget how to do it. But the second that her mother handed her to me, it all came back. Holding her was practically instinctual. Just as baby’s know how to smile and kiss without being taught. There are some things that are built into us, and cannot be excised; no matter how confusing the world becomes.   Miranda opened her azure eyes, and then yawned. I kissed her on the forehead, and then the hand. She cried soon after, but I didn’t mind. I knew that this was her way of reaching ou...