by Taripar Doly, S.E., M.M. | Jul 23, 2015 | Nusahati
Back in the nineteenth century, when Louis Braille was just three years old, an accident left him blind. As he grew, Louis wanted to read and write, but he felt frustrated with the few slow, difficult methods available at the time for blind people. So Louis came up...
by Taripar Doly, S.E., M.M. | Jul 21, 2015 | Nusahati
In the spring of 1960, I was riding with my dad on his milk route. He spotted a small turtle crossing the road, stopped to pick it up, and put in the glove compartment. He told me not to play with it until we got home. Of course, when he got back to the truck at our...
by Taripar Doly, S.E., M.M. | Jul 16, 2015 | Nusahati
My dad sat straight up in bed and smiled at me. Even though his mouth was crusted with fever sores, he grinned a big grin from his unshaven face. Dementia had completely taken him from me— or so I thought, until he spoke to me. “Honey,” Dad almost seemed to sing the...
by Taripar Doly, S.E., M.M. | Jul 11, 2015 | Nusahati
My dad delivered bread for a living. We enjoyed each other’s company, so he’d drive home at lunchtime and I’d go with him. One day, we delivered to a large grocery store. When we pulled in back, the manager saw me and said, “I heard it’s your birthday, so go pick out...
by Taripar Doly, S.E., M.M. | Jul 8, 2015 | Nusahati
I was reading an article in the newspaper when I came across a word I didn’t know. “Dad, what is the meaning of the word ostensibly?” My dad, as he usually did after work, was watching his favorite show. “You have a dictionary, don’t you?” he shot back. He didn’t even...
by Taripar Doly, S.E., M.M. | Jul 4, 2015 | Nusahati
I sat in my dad’s living room reading one night while he watched television. An hour passed before I realized it, and I felt bad for not speaking during that time.I asked if he was OK, and he said yes. Then I apologized for not talking more. “Carmen,” Dad replied....
