Friday Tidings

This story has been told hundreds of times in those inspirational talks….a father and son are walking on the beach and the son notices dozens of starfish washed ashore during the high tide. The son picks one up and throws it back into the sea. Then he picks up another and does the same. The father says to the son that there are so many washed up that he’s wasting his time that it won’t make any difference. The son then tosses another starfish in the ocean, and says, “It makes a difference to that one.” So, that’s what I saw on my recent beach walk—starfish washed ashore. I thought of the boy as I placed the starfish back into the safety of the water. Then I recalled the most recent debate with the Democratic candidates for president—they all thought that investment was needed in our public schools. I think Republicans would agree. It’s just the policies that differ. We all care about our nation’s kids—the battles are fought over how we can help. But while the argumen...

Typically, I’m optimistic, cheerful, and have the smoothest moods. Most would probably say that I’m easy to get along with.  But lately, I haven’t been getting along with myself. I’m feeling like I’m carrying a heavy backpack of life’s unfinished business. Being newly retired gives me even more time to overthink. My psychology professor once told me I was too cerebral. Not only did I do my own thinking, I tried to think through things for everyone else. He had a point.  I've recently been feeling weighed down.  Sure, I could blame it on winter’s clouds and rain, but that’s never bothered me. So why now? I tried self-analyzing, but I couldn’t seem to shrug off the heaviness. I recalled an article from Psychology Today.  The cure was right outside my door. Literally. The research overwhelming proved there is a direct correlation between being outdoors and achieving a positive mental health outcome.  I was more than ready to go. Taking...

We began our relationship over a decade ago...you cheerfully and routinely remind me of the anniversary of our first date.  You also show me the old posts we did...some were kind of lame, but hey, we were just getting to know each other. After ten years together, we’ve celebrated many birthdays, some sad times, and incredibly exciting days. Oh, the pictures we post seem to make it last. However, we’ve had our relationship struggles....you once said it was “complicated”. No kidding. So, you encouraged me to add more friends and widen my circle. I learned that my friends share a journey; we don't always share a political party affiliation, faith, choices, or habits. No matter. We can agree to root for different teams. Then I read about how you let me see some posts and not others. Is that true, my sweet Facebook? Aren’t we close enough now, to trust that I can handle what I see, or maybe just scroll past if I disagree? You know everything about me. ...

Lon was one of those grandpa’s that would faithfully attend all his grandson’s games. And with three grandsons, that meant plenty of sideline time—in all sorts of weather. Wins and losses didn’t matter, it was about the kids. What happened over the years, as his grandsons grew up, is that Lon and his lifelong wife, June, became team grandparents. Their support transcended family bonds and included every kid on the team. They had big enough hearts to love them all. Lon was once a star athlete and enjoyed sports. Now he followed the action closely from the sidelines, and when a player needed a bit of encouragement, Lon somehow knew just what to say—or a certain nod and a smile.  As the keeper of the baseball team score book, I was typically in and around the dugout. I saw those Lon moments when a few words made a boy’s countenance change, and he stood taller and walked more confidently to the field. Sadly, Lon, the sideline saint, has gone on to root for heav...