LJ Herman is a former editor at Love What Matters and lives in Colorado. LJ is a concert, ticket and technology enthusiast. He has seen the Dave Mathews Band over one hundred times and counting.

LJ Herman is a former editor at Love What Matters and lives in Colorado. LJ is a concert, ticket and technology enthusiast. He has seen the Dave Mathews Band over one hundred times and counting.
“Moments where I was short with my kids, moments where I lost my patience, moments where I didn’t play with them when they asked because I was trying to finish the dishes or dinner. I replay them over and over, letting the guilt settle deep. It always leaves me feeling defeated.”
“He knows how to hold his own. He knows how to survive. He knows how to ration a foot-long sub sandwich for days and weather the dark night. He knows how to root for the underdog and take care of people. But within all that beauty he holds, there are a few things he doesn’t quite know.”
“Nail salons are finally open so, of course, I went to go get my little nails painted. As usual, I chatted with the person who was next to me. We laughed about how all of ‘us’ have rushed to go get our nails done but her reason for doing it struck me right in my heart.”
“It was about us helping when we can. 15 minutes later, we were outside. She and her husband came up to us. She touched our hearts.”
“I drove to the airport that day with my hands shaking. He was pushing his luggage cart towards me with the biggest smile I’ve ever seen. You know in the movies where everything goes slow motion and the music starts and the rest of the world falls away and the people seem like the only two on the planet? THAT. EXACTLY.”
“It all seemed above board. By the third email, they asked for more images of me.”
“Friends and family dropped off like dead flies. That’s when I decided I would become the jail wife who helps these inmates, not the cop-bashers wife who should hide with shame. We all make mistakes, these men or women were just caught.”
“’Cheryl? Your dad is not going to make it through the night.’ The Nurse Practitioner on the other end was out of breath. ‘How do I get my mom there?’ She didn’t know. I held my dad’s hand while he died.”
“My husband wanted to do me a favor one night when he got home late from work. While there, an older white woman was at a pump across from him and he noticed she appeared very nervous and stared at him. He was told he fit a description. They asked whose car he was driving. He was told he could not leave. He was told the description was simply a black man. He came home a changed man.”
“Angie confided, ‘Why don’t you take our appointment? I will call the doctor and set it up.’ The kindness Angie showed me when I was feeling such deep desperation has always stayed with me. They both shared a positive outlook on life which is contagious. Lizzie and Sam hadn’t seen each other in over a decade!”