Alive Hospice. What an ironic name, I thought while entering through the white French doors of a deceptively small one-story building.
Desperate for distraction, I inserted myself into various awkward social situations with strangers. I played tennis with strangers; I salsa danced with strangers; I joined a Meetup group full of strangers. Each conversation made me feel shallow and forgettable. I hated all of it.
A valiant return…and a less valiant one.
Without disseminating treatment throughout the country, many more people will die unnecessarily of treatable cancers as they wait for spaces to open up in the few treatment programs that are available.
I do this thing where I talk to my baby girl even though she’s too young to talk back. Plus, she’s not real.
Simon Rich’s take on the world of such millennial touchstones as participation trophies, helicopter parents, artisanal foods, blogs, hipster cool, student loans and Adderall is inventive, satiric and often simultaneously hilarious and touching.
Sister Tommie is 76 years old. In her old age, despite her dementia (or more likely, because of it), she is beaming with youth and innocence.
Whenever I think of the March for Life, I think of my oldest son. I think of him as a miniature boy about 17 months old, walking along the double-yellow line that runs down Washington D.C.’s Constitution Avenue, wearing a giant woolen hat and snow boots that nearly covered his knees. Sometimes out of habit he would rocket his mittened hand upward to find his pregnant mother’s gloved one.
Welcome to Molarity Redux, the 69th strip in the updated, continuing adventures of Jim Mole and friends.
There are fleeting moments where I wonder if I’m losing it — like when I pour orange juice into my morning cereal or stash my fiance’s credit card information in the office fridge — moments when I question if I actually have it all together. Those moments are few and infrequent, but as someone who thinks and processes and communicates for a living, I fear the day I’m not in full control of my mental capacities.
Barely a day goes by when I don’t think about the undergraduate semester I spent in Ireland 21 years ago. I’ve never found the opportunity to return, but two recent events on the Notre Dame campus renewed my acquaintance with the island and my hope that transformative Christian faith may not be a thing of the Irish past.
I never really thought my family of seven had a food culture. Then I looked at the calendar to see how we did through the year.
“Until you experience it, you don’t realize the pressure that can be placed on science when it has some sort of monetary repercussion,” says a Notre Dame biochemist. “Actually, our work can’t be pigeonholed either ‘for’ or ‘against’ genetically modified crops.”
Saturday marked the five-year anniversary of the devastating earthquake that killed 220,000 people. But Haiti is much more than the sum of the natural disasters and political unrest that has plagued the nation for the last few decades.
Midway through our son’s first semester, I am are far from claiming expert status but can offer a list of seven ways to love your children with autism into the first year they are away at college.
Junior year of Molarity has come to an end.
“Poetry is what prose can only talk about,” a former colleague of mine mentioned to me once in passing. He was right then and now.
The only thing on my schedule today was to go to the bank to send an international wire transfer. I never made it there. Before I could, the day would turn bizarre and then surreal in the mountains high above Port-au-Prince.
For many in the Notre Dame community and wider public, investigations this past fall of alleged academic honor code violations concerning five Notre Dame football players spurred the question: Just how does Notre Dame handle accusations of cheating?
At one time, walking into the reliquary chapel of the Basilica of the Sacred Heart at Notre Dame was a mystifying encounter with bewildering, foreign objects. If, that is, visitors could even find it.
A Notre Dame scholar’s research liberates an Ecuadorian treasure
Deaths in the Notre Dame family
Forget taking it easy. When Brian DeToy ’85, a lieutenant colonel, retired in March of 2013 after 28 years of Army service, he and his wife, Sheryl, decided it was time to open a business.
John Corgan ’11 takes readers for a lively evening’s ride in his “Grace is a hobble-wheeled bicycle” essay, which won first place in this magazine’s second annual Young Alumni Essay Contest.
The state of public education in Chicago is a weighty topic for a theater company, but it isn’t the first for Collaboraction, a Wicker Park-based group led by Anthony Moseley ’95.
Stepping off the plane in the Solukhumbu district of Nepal in 1973, Zeke O’Connor ’49 encountered a world previously confined to his imagination. The Himalayas’ stark, angular faces and the thick rhododendron forests seemed like mythic visions to the guy from the Bronx who had hardly experienced camping.
But each list — while perhaps jaunty and pithy and quick — contains a rich stack of ideas to linger over, loiter with and think about. So read and push pause on your life and listen to the music in your head.
Antonio Simonetti is a geologist by training, a chemist by trade and a Notre Dame associate professor of civil and environmental engineering and earth sciences by title. “But you can think of me as the CSI person on TV,” he says.
Eight Measures of Success; Ten Things a CEO Should Always Remember; Six Success Strategies, from One Cheeky, Caffeinated, Twentysomething Entrepreneur To Another; 10 Workplace Realities
I said some of these things to my two daughters, now grown. Some of these things I wish I had said.