Author: Jim Mitchem

On December 10, 2021 I was diagnosed with cancer. It turned out to be a moment of clarity and grace.

We were in a white room. That much I knew. There were images on the walls but I couldn’t quite make out their colors or shapes. Lately, things were mostly just smudges of light and dark. But it didn’t matter. I could see her, and that’s all I needed to know that everything was okay … that everything was going to be okay.  There was muffled discussion from a strange voice in the room, but I couldn’t quite make out…

A man who was once homeless and suicidal discusses how he overcame alcoholism to live a soberly for 30 years.

Next to sobriety, fatherhood has been the most important experience of my life. When the heart expands, it never goes back.

It was a shallow fly ball that was going to drop behind shortstop. I took off full speed from right center field knowing the only way I corral it was to go full out. Then, as it descended, I knew I’d have to slide to catch it inches from the ground. So I did. The way I always do, on my right leg/hip. The ground was hard, I bounced a little—upsetting my timing and missing the ball by inches. I…

A graduation post for our youngest daughter, Cozette. A kid who came into the world with clenched fists and a heart of fire.