Opinion

It starts with the sound of a crying baby. A woman’s voice trembles as she tells whoever answers the phone that her newborn hasn’t eaten since last night.

Family is the thread that stitches our lives into something meaningful even when those stitches aren’t always neat or perfect. If there’s anything this past year has taught me, it’s that time with the people we love is the most sacred currency we’ll ever hold. Once it’s spent, it’s gone. No rewrites. No do-overs. Only the memories we carry forward. Like most families, mine has its disagreements. Although some are small and some last longer than they should, when I sit at the table and look at my mother, the woman whose hands have held generations together, I’mreminded every ordinary moment is extraordinary. Every laugh, shared meal and story told for the 100th time becomes a gem we don’t realize we’re polishing until years later.

Some people move through the world with minds that sit quietly in the background. They hear a phrase like “imagine an apple” and nothing happens. No picture, color or scene. Just a blank page. When that discovery made its way across social media a while back, it created an entire wave of confusion. People with lively inner worlds could not understand how anyone could simply not picture things, while people with aphantasia were shocked that others lived with nonstop mental movies.

The Richmond News, Nov. 28, 2025 Ruby Jean Watkins (nee Hagy) passed away peacefully Saturday, Nov.

It starts with the sound of a crying baby. A woman’s voice trembles as she tells whoever answers the phone that her newborn hasn’t eaten since last night.

After my dog Percy died earlier this year, the house turned quiet in a way that settled deep. Food bowls stayed lined against the wall, still clean, the couch cushion he claimed kept its dip for months and silence filled every corner once full of sound and movement.

Parenting doesn’t always break your heart in loud or dramatic ways. Most of the time, it’s quieter. It happens when the house is still, the workday feels endless and you suddenly realize your child has been waiting for you to notice the time slipping by. It’s the kind of heartbreak that doesn’t come from a single moment but from the slow awareness that love, no matter how strong, sometimes gets buried beneath responsibility. The other night, my daughter Aurora told me she feels like I am always working. She said when we go somewhere, it’s usually an event for my job, and that even when we’re home, I’m on my computer late into the night. Her voice wasn’t angry, just honest. To her, work had become the quiet wall between us.

Kratom is taking lives Editor’s note: If you or someone you know is struggling with kratom use or addiction, contact Tri-County Mental Health Services at 816-468-0400 or visit 988lifeline.org. Additional local resources include Compass Health Network and Burrell Behavioral Health, which provide confidential counseling and recovery support across Missouri.