​​​​​​​How is it already mid-July? One of the largest difficulties (or maybe blessings) that I’ve noticed in the midst of the pandemic is that time is confusing.

Comparison is the thief of joy. On my social media accounts this week, that’s the message that kept repeating itself. 

​​​​​​​We live in a world of unrest. Increasingly, we’ve witnessed uprisings in all forms: natural phenomena, medical contagion and human violence. 

What will the fall look like? It’s the question that’s on everyone’s minds – students, parents, teachers and administrators alike.

Day in and day out I’ve watched my sons grow. Each day seems to bring new milestones, even in the midst of the same routine. 

One of the most difficult aspects of the quarantine has been the isolation.

"Mama.” It’s the word we’ve been working on in our household. “Dada” is thrown in as well, along with “hi” and “puppy.” 

Dear Seniors, I see you. I see your disappointment and your frustration as you complete the final days of your last school year in isolation.

Change. It’s a word we dread almost instinctively.

My neighbor across the street lives alone and is in the at-risk group.

We are Easter people,” summarized St. John Paul II, urging Catholics not to despair in hopelessness.

You’re not stuck in your homes,” reads the viral message spreading across social media.

In times of crisis, we find comfort in our faith. At the onset of the COVID-19 outbreak in the New Orleans community, the faithful gathered together in prayer...

​​​​​​​Above all, remain calm. This is the message I felt like shouting to colleagues in my university’s hallway as the announcement alerted all faculty and students...

In my neighborhood, I recognized the tell-tale signs of the slender green shoots of daffodils and the broad leaves of tulips popping up from the ground. 

​​​​​​​I’ve been thinking about resistance to change. Why are we so hesitant to change things up? To encounter new experiences?

Remember you are dust.” These are the words we’ll hear this coming Wednesday as ashen crosses are drawn on our foreheads as a solemn reminder of the transience of our lives, as well as its cyclicality.

It seemed appropriate that, as we neared Valentine’s Day, my husband and I finally got around to hanging the framed collages of our engagement and wedding photos.