In Weymouth, they called him Joe Horse. His real name was Joseph Cavallo, but nobody called him that. Not at Denly’s, not on Lake Street, not at the Water Department where he worked. You see, Cavallo means horse in Italian, and Joe wore that name like a crown. He was a local legend. The kind […]
Uncle Joe’s Last Drink Read More »
We were sitting around a small table at my mom’s favorite spot, Cupz and Crepes, when something hit me. It was just the five of us: Pete, Rosie, Michael, Nicole, and me. No spouses. No kids. Just my family. The original crew. I couldn’t remember the last time that had happened. Maybe we were teenagers.
The Breakfast of a Lifetime Read More »
I almost quit. After months of writing, editing, sharing vulnerable stories from my life, and getting nothing but silence from literary agents, I sat at my desk and thought, Maybe this is it. Maybe no one cares. But that’s not the whole story. I’ve done everything they say you’re supposed to do. I broke through
The Story Deserves to Be Told Read More »
The Day My Son Discovered MF DOOM Slept on My Couch Part Two Mason sat there staring at me, still stunned. “Wait… you’re serious?” I nodded. I had just said it out loud for the first time: MF DOOM slept on my couch. And the moment I told Mason that truth, something cracked open inside
The Day the Music Died Read More »
It started with a sound. A familiar bassline drifted from my son Mason’s room, low and looped, laid-back but haunting. I was across the hall in my bedroom, scrolling through Netflix, when it caught my ear and pulled me back three decades like a hook in a song. I walked into his room and asked,
The Day My Son Discovered MF DOOM Slept on My Couch Read More »
Some stories don’t need embellishment. They write themselves through the rawness of the moment—the stress, the beauty, the kindness of strangers, and the unforgettable turns (both literal and emotional) along the way. This is one of those stories. We left the Hilton Grand Wailea right after breakfast, full bellies and high hopes, packed into a
The Road to Hana and the Aloha Mindset Read More »
In June 2024, I flew back to Massachusetts with my sons, Mason and Colby, for a 72-hour whirlwind trip to celebrate the Boston Celtics’ NBA Championship. We made the most of every minute—cheering at the parade, climbing rocks and jumping into the ocean from my cousin Stevie’s boat near World’s End, and laughing with family
Cheating Death at Fearing Pond Read More »
When I was diagnosed with multiple sclerosis, my mind drifted back to a memory I hadn’t thought about in years. It was the spring of 1980, and I was just four years old. That was the year my Aunt Loretta passed away—she was the first person I ever lost. Loretta Cavallo was born on March
Where She Lives Now Read More »
The following is an excerpt from, The Dog Story: How Faith, Family, and a Puppy Helped Me Rediscover Hope by Matt Cavallo. This side-by-side photo compilation is from my sister Nicole’s First Communion. It features the altar at Resurrection of the Lord Parish in Hingham, MA, Nicole at 5 years old, Father Mooney, and me at
Maybe This Isn’t the End Read More »
It was late summer 1980 in East Weymouth, Massachusetts. I was four years old, and my brother, Mike, was two. We lived at 37 Lorraine Street, our little ranch home in a small, family neighborhood where kids played freely, and there were no fences dividing the yards just the forest behind our home. Our backyard
The Day My Brother Went Missing Read More »