It is always the little things, the inconveniences; the frustrations; the annoyances; the unexpected twists in the day, that tend to get me worked up and make me lose focus. Those obstacles distract me from noticing or remembering all the other little things that make life beautiful. In order to help myself choose to see the beauty and blessings of every day, I’ve decided to keep a list. This list will grow over time, and items will be captured in no particular order other than the order in which they occur to me at any given moment. I expect the “little things list” will appear here periodically… picking up wherever the last post ended. I hope some of these things are recognizable to you… Read more…
It was a little black sanding sponge. I handed it to Ethan to put back in the cart while Kendra and I sought out materials for a table refinishing project. Ethan toddled proudly over to the cart and stretched his little body upward. He nearly stepped out of his shoes as he perched up on his toes. He grasped the side of the cart to stabilize himself and slid his arm over the side of the basket. I watched him gingerly set the sponge down in the upper basket and slowly withdraw his hand. His task complete, he gave himself a tiny clap and turned to me with a satisfied smile. Read more…
I was on the freeway when I received the call. I was about three quarters of the way through my morning commute, and in the middle of a teleconference. I couldn’t tell who it was…the caller ID displayed my office phone, which had forwarded the call. I almost ignored it and sent it to voice mail, but I just had that feeling. I knew I had to answer the phone. I could feel my body tense up as I pressed the answer key. I said hello… the caller identified herself, and began to state the nature of her call. She said my son’s name… I am not certain I breathed again for the next 10 minutes. My head was in a fog… I felt physical pain, like I’d been trampled and kicked by horses. I vacillated between rage and despair; consumed by fear for the future of our child. I somehow managed to conduct the conversation and navigate across several lanes of traffic towards an offramp while I slowly felt slip the grip I thought I held on my world and my reality. Bleary-eyed and shaken, I turned the car around and headed towards home. Read more…
I can remember moments in my childhood when I was doing some bizarre thing or another and I would happen to catch my parents watching me. They wouldn’t say anything; maybe chuckle or smile. I’d ask “what?” but they’d never reply. They would just have that look. I now understand that thoughtful gaze. I look at my boys the same way sometimes and I just think, “Wow… What lies ahead?” I wonder what paths they will choose…who they will become… what kind of lives they will lead… but most often, I wonder what fire will burn deep inside of them. What will be the thing that drives them? What will be their great passions in life?… Will they pursue them?
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Dillon resigned as my illustrator the other day. He said he was retiring, getting out of the game… or something like that. He’d gone through about 5 pages of illustrations, and the mood suddenly left him. He was tired of carrying the weight of the team…now I’ll have to farm it out somehow. It’s a shame, because they were good pictures too… he translated the activities in the story perfectly and caught the main focus in each section with his renderings. Where am I going to find another illustrator that can bring my words to life like he did? and one who will work for snickerdoodles and pez? Dang child labor laws. Alas, another talent burnt out at an early age.
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