Underwood and Mike Fisher walked the red carpet together for the first time in two years, making headlines. Since winning American Idol in 2005, Carrie Underwood has become a country music superstar. The Oklahoma singer has won seven Grammys and sold 85 million records worldwide with singles like “Before He Cheats” and “Jesus, Take the Wheel.” From her Calia fitness brand, health app, and American Idol judgeship, Underwood, 42, has developed a successful business. https://www.instagram.com/reel/DHbjU7gvJwl/?utm_source=ig_web_button_share_sheet Since Randy Travis named her to the Grand Ole Opry in 2008, Underwood has been a tremendous presence on the stage. Her…
Author: World Wide
The grandparents had been together 62 years. Sixty-two. Three times longer than I’ve lived. However, they’ve lived apart for eight months. Grandpa needs particular care, and no economical place could accept them both. Grandma now sleeps alone every night in a smaller facility across town for the first time in over 60 years. Once, in private, she said, “It’s the loneliness that hurts more than anything.” Grandpa always asks, “Where’s my little mouse?” when we come. His nickname for her. She enters, and his face lights up like he’s seeing her again. However, visiting hours end. She must depart. He…
I saw him enter after replenishing the coffee station, apprehensive, like he expected to be booted out before he got passed the doorway. His clothing were torn, his shoes were wearing off, and his face showed more than just fatigue. He said, “Excuse me, ma’am,” avoiding my gaze. Do you have extra change? Just enough to eat?” I was used to street people begging for money. Some were merely unlucky, while others were excessively dependent. I had been burned before—given food just to see it sold. I posed the familiar inquiry. “Why are you unemployed?” My voice was direct, not…
After my parents divorced and my mom died, I had to move in with my dad, whom she always branded a “hopeless loser.” Living with him was unique. I caught him sneaking away late at night without knowing why. Prom was approaching, but I didn’t care. No date, wheelchair, and feeling trapped in every way—it wasn’t a fun night. Surgery could improve my life, but without money, it was a dream. I recognized that prom wasn’t for me. My dad, whom my mom constantly doubted, suddenly claimed he was taking me. No idea what to anticipate, but that night altered…
I never imagined this position. I just knew Robert as an old man in the hospice where I helped. He had no family, friends, or visitors. Every time I visited, he smiled and said, “Ah, my favorite troublemaker.” He grasped my wrist last week, his voice weaker. “One last favor, kid,” he muttered. “Please deliver a letter to an address. Give it to the woman. No inquiries, no peeking.” I hesitated. It was too intimate, but how could you refuse a dying man? I visited the address the next day. The modest residence was clean yet rundown. A fiftysomething woman…
When Brielle lost her temper, she had only been employed for three months. After yet another exhausting day, she came home, lay down on her bed, and opened TikTok. She angrily moaned into the camera, “I really don’t understand how anyone lives like this.” For example, who determined that 40 hours a week was the norm? I’m meant to have a life after leaving my apartment at 7:30 AM, spending the entire day in a depressing cubicle, and arriving home at 6:30? When? Her tone sharpened. Boomers claim that millennials are lazy, but you all purchased homes with just one…
My clothing were still covered with smoke. Everything else was gone, but my babies were secure. I was standing barefoot in the frigid night air, holding my five-year-old daughter, Luna, close. Mateo, my baby, was nestled against a stranger’s chest, wrapped in a firefighter’s jacket. Mateo’s small face was protected from the cold by the gloved hand of the guy holding him, whose uniform read A. Calderon, as he spoke softly to him. I couldn’t even recall giving him my child. It had all happened so quickly. Neighbors gathered outside, whispering, the fire, and the sirens. I had a home…
Even though my black coffee had become lukewarm fifteen minutes already, I took a long drink. In any case, I was hardly tasting it. Invoices, past-due emails, and a tightness in my chest that I couldn’t identify but had been carrying for weeks filled my mind. My four-year-old, Nolan, tugged at my sleeve while his large hazel eyes gazed up at me. “Milkshake?” he said in a gentle, upbeat tone. What a trivial request. However, it struck me like a lifeboat during a tempest. As I looked at the pile of unpaid bills on the kitchen counter, my phone rang…
We dropped by after school. Friday treat. He orders nuggets, chocolate milk, and additional fries every time. He was watching the boy across the dining room while I answered emails. The other kid sat alone. No tray. No bag. Only a worn hoodie two sizes too big and eyes that surveyed the tables like he was hoping someone would glance back. My son slipped out of the booth, grabbed his fry container, and hurried over before I could respond. I wasn’t asked. Never asked permission. He sat down and divided the fries. They chatted little. Just nodding. Then my son…
