By WENDY HODGE My dad’s bedroom is quiet most of the time. The hum of the hospital bed is the only constant sound, and it’s barely audible. Talking has become harder for him. Words are barely recognizable and are always cut short by harsh coughing fits. Sitting there,...

By WENDY HODGE My mother has become a stand-up comedian in her old age. I figure if you’ve lived 90 years you’ve earned the right to crack jokes whenever you feel like it — and she feels like it a lot these days. She laughs at herself and at funny memories from long...

By WENDY HODGE There is a box of treasures in my closet … things that don’t have any real monetary value. But they’re priceless to me. Family photographs, a Bible with my name engraved on it that I got when I graduated from high school, movie ticket stubs from the...

By WENDY HODGE This world’s a noisy place. In all things, from advertising blaring at us from the television, radio and Internet to technology which beeps, chirps and dings at us from our pockets and purses ... from city sounds that honk and bang incessantly to our...