In retrospect, this past week has been a blur. I have traveled almost 4,000 miles this past week, have spent at least over an hour in at least three states, and only spent a total of 12 hours in the office this week. Looking back it just feels like the week has breezed by.
My week started at 4:30am on Monday with an arrival at the local airport to begin a west coast journey to attend a meeting that was scheduled to begin at 9am Pacific time. Since I can't catch a direct flight, I'm forced to connect in Dallas. There's a whole story related to why I'd subject myself to an early flight out, but this opportunity allowed me to fly first class from Dallas to the west coast in the company of other high rollers like Michael Irvin. Unfortunately the early time tabled was conducive for me to catch a hour of sleep in my first class recliner, so I didn't really even get a chance to fully appreciate the luxuries afford me. Monday evening found me at a beach side seafood restaurant in Malibu dining on Chilean Sea bass. Tuesday found me again traversing the country returning home with a diversion to Oklahoma City because of weather in Dallas. For the hour and half we spent on the tarmac in OKC, I passed the time listening to the young lady next to me fretting about her ability to make it home to Alabama. So to assist I pulled out the treo and navigated the airlines website checking on flights in an effort to comfort this young lady. Upon arriving in Dallas, I watched two other flights scheduled after mine, leave for home. I did get home after 10pm that night exhausted and curious if my trip scheduled next month will allow me to get into Chicago in time to make the first pitch at Wrigley Field (I arrive in Chicago at 10:30am and the game starts at 1:20pm). Wednesday saw a normal day at the office, normal given the fact that I've been absent for the two previous days. Thursday I spent the morning in the office, and the afternoon driving to Dallas. This drive was prolonged by an hour because of construction that diverted (see a theme developing?) east bound traffic to the frontage road and a extreme backup of vehicles. Friday I spent the day in a workshop visiting with other educational technology professionals. Saturday I returned home, so that the rental car could be checked in by 1pm.
I'm not sure how people do this business travel. One of the guys I met out at the west coast on Monday, was also in attendance at the workshop in Dallas on Friday. I know for a fact that he was in Arizona on Tuesday, and who knows where else Wednesday and Thursday. At one point the wife and I decided that if I ever changed careers, I would be allowed to travel one week a month if the job required. After a week like this, I'm not convinced that I'd want to pursue opportunities that required this.
Thankfully I'm home for a couple of weeks before I jet off again. Of course the next time I fly the friendly skies, it's for a guys weekend away that includes the mentioned Cubs day game.
Saturday, March 17, 2007
Friday, March 9, 2007
Losing it all
For the last couple of months, the wife and I have been attending Dave Ramsey's Financial Peace University through our local church. For the entire span of our marriage we've been in debt, and despite all the good intentions and plans that I may have conjured, we continue this pattern of money mismanagement. So we now sit at the foot of a man who has been on top of the mountain, only to loose it all, and then by the grace of God has been able to re-establish his footing.
Having read the stories about Mr. Ramsey, and having listen to several of his radio shows and read through a couple of his books, I find his advice and story encouraging. Despite the dire straits that I may be walking upon, I find courage that change can happen, and that with some honesty, communications, and grace that I too can enjoy the opportunities presented to my family.
Over the last couple of years I have spent several nights obsessing over the bills that have stacked up against us. I have questioned my ability to provide for my family, and more than several occasions I have lost total confidence in myself and my abilities as a father and husband. Not all dire situations affect me in the manner in which money issues affect me. Job challenges that maybe wrought with unattainable objectives typically drive me to find the critical path to overcome the hurdles. Attacks on me or even the illusion that I may have done something to wrong others, typically drive me to re-examine my own actions and decipher how I need to be more sensitive to how my actions or words evoke others to respond. However money simply takes the wind out of me, and I want to just curl up into the fetal position.
So my wife returned from her ever so exasperating trip to the west coast with stories of a presentation by Phil Vischer, the creator of the VeggieTales. The short version of Phil's plight in the world of Christian animation is that he created VeggieTales and it exceeded all expectations he had regarding it's popularity. As the mania grew, so did his aspirations of what VeggieTales and the Big Idea brand could become. So a series of events came to pass that saw Phil leverage the company, relationships, and himself to the point that ultimately left the company in bankruptcy and he lost his dream, passion, and more than ten years of his life's work. I'm sure I may have over stated the impact here, but the point is simply he overextended the dream to share with the world a message and talent that God had given him. After all this ordeal, he continues lending his voice for the characters he created, helps write scripts, and relishes the exposure that VeggieTales has received since it started airing on NBC on Saturday mornings. Obviously there are some unique and God opened doors in his story, but reading through some of the accounts of the rocky history, I get the sense that in the midst of the storm his confidence, ambition, and very self worth was shaken. And yet, bitterness couldn't be a descriptor of his attitude. He still has a hand, although intentionally limited and guarded, in the developments of the vegetable gang. The language he uses implies peace as he describes the fact that many of the individuals that helped propel VeggieTales success in the early days, who later were laid off, are once again pouring the energies into the developing story line of Bob, Larry, Pa Grape, Archibald, etc.
The silver lining that I take from both Phil and Dave, is that in spite of ourselves, God can work in us. In spite of our own failings, and the pain that it can (and will) cause, peace can be felt. I find it encouraging that although I'm confident that neither Phil or Dave would wish anyone to follow in their footsteps, the fact remains that their path isn't completely bleak. Even as they might have walked in the valley of darkness, they feared no evil, confident that the Lord was present. Sometimes presence is all we need. Sometimes, in absence of miracles, in the absence of words, the knowledge that we are not alone is what sustains us. There are and will be days that when our own short sightedness will get the best of us. There are and will be days when we are allowed to fall flat on our faces. These days don't necessarily represent God's absence, more times than not I believe these represent our own absence from God. I typically find that it is on these occasions when I fell God's presence more than ever. It is on these occasions when my own voice or others I have gathered around me aren't drowning out God's wisdom and counsel. The challenge of course it not to only be listening when I'm flat on my face or in dire straits. He's always present, his Spirit is always offering counsel. May I listen now. May I be conscious of his strength in my weakness, and his words in my silence.
Having read the stories about Mr. Ramsey, and having listen to several of his radio shows and read through a couple of his books, I find his advice and story encouraging. Despite the dire straits that I may be walking upon, I find courage that change can happen, and that with some honesty, communications, and grace that I too can enjoy the opportunities presented to my family.
Over the last couple of years I have spent several nights obsessing over the bills that have stacked up against us. I have questioned my ability to provide for my family, and more than several occasions I have lost total confidence in myself and my abilities as a father and husband. Not all dire situations affect me in the manner in which money issues affect me. Job challenges that maybe wrought with unattainable objectives typically drive me to find the critical path to overcome the hurdles. Attacks on me or even the illusion that I may have done something to wrong others, typically drive me to re-examine my own actions and decipher how I need to be more sensitive to how my actions or words evoke others to respond. However money simply takes the wind out of me, and I want to just curl up into the fetal position.
So my wife returned from her ever so exasperating trip to the west coast with stories of a presentation by Phil Vischer, the creator of the VeggieTales. The short version of Phil's plight in the world of Christian animation is that he created VeggieTales and it exceeded all expectations he had regarding it's popularity. As the mania grew, so did his aspirations of what VeggieTales and the Big Idea brand could become. So a series of events came to pass that saw Phil leverage the company, relationships, and himself to the point that ultimately left the company in bankruptcy and he lost his dream, passion, and more than ten years of his life's work. I'm sure I may have over stated the impact here, but the point is simply he overextended the dream to share with the world a message and talent that God had given him. After all this ordeal, he continues lending his voice for the characters he created, helps write scripts, and relishes the exposure that VeggieTales has received since it started airing on NBC on Saturday mornings. Obviously there are some unique and God opened doors in his story, but reading through some of the accounts of the rocky history, I get the sense that in the midst of the storm his confidence, ambition, and very self worth was shaken. And yet, bitterness couldn't be a descriptor of his attitude. He still has a hand, although intentionally limited and guarded, in the developments of the vegetable gang. The language he uses implies peace as he describes the fact that many of the individuals that helped propel VeggieTales success in the early days, who later were laid off, are once again pouring the energies into the developing story line of Bob, Larry, Pa Grape, Archibald, etc.
The silver lining that I take from both Phil and Dave, is that in spite of ourselves, God can work in us. In spite of our own failings, and the pain that it can (and will) cause, peace can be felt. I find it encouraging that although I'm confident that neither Phil or Dave would wish anyone to follow in their footsteps, the fact remains that their path isn't completely bleak. Even as they might have walked in the valley of darkness, they feared no evil, confident that the Lord was present. Sometimes presence is all we need. Sometimes, in absence of miracles, in the absence of words, the knowledge that we are not alone is what sustains us. There are and will be days that when our own short sightedness will get the best of us. There are and will be days when we are allowed to fall flat on our faces. These days don't necessarily represent God's absence, more times than not I believe these represent our own absence from God. I typically find that it is on these occasions when I fell God's presence more than ever. It is on these occasions when my own voice or others I have gathered around me aren't drowning out God's wisdom and counsel. The challenge of course it not to only be listening when I'm flat on my face or in dire straits. He's always present, his Spirit is always offering counsel. May I listen now. May I be conscious of his strength in my weakness, and his words in my silence.
Sunday, February 25, 2007
Inconvenience
In an age where one can transverse the country in a matter of hours rather than days, I would say that we frequently forget the complex maze of dependencies that provide this feat of convenience. It is only when this delicate balance of dependencies is interrupted that the cord of convenience begins to quickly unravel.
I've only had brief experiences of this scene we can glibly label "inconvenience". I've sat in a plane on the tarmac in Austin, Texas for several hours, while our flight between Los Angeles and Dallas was waiting out thunderstorms at our destination. I've driven a rental car the thousand miles along Interstate 20 after mine and all flights were canceled following the events we know as September 11.
All these events were bothersome in many ways, but these few occurrences were manageable because I was the one sitting, waiting, negotiating, and simply passing the time. This weekend my bride counted on the convenience to deliver her to a west coast destination where she was scheduled for several days of renewal and retooling associated with her vocation. Her trip was interrupted almost immediately with an hour delay from her port of embankment. What transpired the the convening 36 hours has been nothing less that inconvenience. A frantic race through the DFW airport to catch a connecting flight that made it as far as the runway and back in a mere three hours and half hours. Constant jocking for spots on alternative flights with every other passenger that was scheduled to depart the airport on that Saturday afternoon and night. Continuous visits to the ticket counter, very hour on the hour to check available flights and standby listings, an additional two hour wait to see if the luggage would make the next flight, a hotel room that was given away for reasons that escaped the not-so-courteous attendant at the front desk, and finally 24 hours of activities never to be recaptured-monetarily and in mind share.
It may make for a good story in hind-sight, but as a husband who's tasked with the unattainable goal of fixing little girl''s hair, I find it difficult not to be able to lend a hand of comfort or resolution. I listen attentively, text feverishly, and even parlay this unraveling account to friends in such a passive way, that I find myself wishing to change places. I don't think the end results would be any different were me rather than her, but at least she would be insulated from the frustration that brings about tears and I wouldn't feel so helpless knowing that not only can't I reach out in comfort, but I can't actually reach out in vindication.
Such an episode makes one pause to consider future travel plans, even those arranged to bring loved ones home. The silver lining, if I can reach beyond the constraints of a self-imposed realist view point, is that despite the inconveniences, my beautiful bride is safe. Appropriate decisions were made following certain risk assessments, and for that I can not nor will I fault anyone. So I fall asleep knowing that despite well articulated business plans hinged on the benefit of convenience, like all other elements of our world Murphy's law is in play making note that things can and will disrupt the best plans available.
I've only had brief experiences of this scene we can glibly label "inconvenience". I've sat in a plane on the tarmac in Austin, Texas for several hours, while our flight between Los Angeles and Dallas was waiting out thunderstorms at our destination. I've driven a rental car the thousand miles along Interstate 20 after mine and all flights were canceled following the events we know as September 11.
All these events were bothersome in many ways, but these few occurrences were manageable because I was the one sitting, waiting, negotiating, and simply passing the time. This weekend my bride counted on the convenience to deliver her to a west coast destination where she was scheduled for several days of renewal and retooling associated with her vocation. Her trip was interrupted almost immediately with an hour delay from her port of embankment. What transpired the the convening 36 hours has been nothing less that inconvenience. A frantic race through the DFW airport to catch a connecting flight that made it as far as the runway and back in a mere three hours and half hours. Constant jocking for spots on alternative flights with every other passenger that was scheduled to depart the airport on that Saturday afternoon and night. Continuous visits to the ticket counter, very hour on the hour to check available flights and standby listings, an additional two hour wait to see if the luggage would make the next flight, a hotel room that was given away for reasons that escaped the not-so-courteous attendant at the front desk, and finally 24 hours of activities never to be recaptured-monetarily and in mind share.
It may make for a good story in hind-sight, but as a husband who's tasked with the unattainable goal of fixing little girl''s hair, I find it difficult not to be able to lend a hand of comfort or resolution. I listen attentively, text feverishly, and even parlay this unraveling account to friends in such a passive way, that I find myself wishing to change places. I don't think the end results would be any different were me rather than her, but at least she would be insulated from the frustration that brings about tears and I wouldn't feel so helpless knowing that not only can't I reach out in comfort, but I can't actually reach out in vindication.
Such an episode makes one pause to consider future travel plans, even those arranged to bring loved ones home. The silver lining, if I can reach beyond the constraints of a self-imposed realist view point, is that despite the inconveniences, my beautiful bride is safe. Appropriate decisions were made following certain risk assessments, and for that I can not nor will I fault anyone. So I fall asleep knowing that despite well articulated business plans hinged on the benefit of convenience, like all other elements of our world Murphy's law is in play making note that things can and will disrupt the best plans available.
Thursday, February 22, 2007
Amazng Mind
Next week I have several coworkers heading out to Searcy, Arkansas for a conference. This afternoon I was looking over the shoulder of one of the conference goers as he attempted to determine where he was going, and how he should get there. As he google mapped Searcy, I began to tell him what I remembered of Searcy. It's been over 25 years since I lived there, but looking over the map, I quickly began noting landmarks that I remembered. The house on Virgil street next to the old cemetery. Riding bikes in the parking lot of the Downtown church, which really wasn't downtown. Walking down Grand street with my dad on Saturday mornings from the apartments on Race street to the campus post office. The Kroger where we used to take glass soda bottles for the ten cent refund. The two screen movie theater on the main square where I saw Star Wars.
Despite the fact that I was less than ten years old, all these memories are so vivid. It is just amazing how clear the mind can hold onto and then play back. It may not be in high definition, and sometimes the memories can be jumbled, as if the frames have been placed out of sequence, for the most part it is accurate. I may forget the honey-doos that my bride has requested ten minutes ago, but tripping down memory lane seems to come so easily. It makes me scratch my head and marvel at how incredibly amazing is the technology that we struggle to artificially recreate with RAM and CPU power.
Despite the fact that I was less than ten years old, all these memories are so vivid. It is just amazing how clear the mind can hold onto and then play back. It may not be in high definition, and sometimes the memories can be jumbled, as if the frames have been placed out of sequence, for the most part it is accurate. I may forget the honey-doos that my bride has requested ten minutes ago, but tripping down memory lane seems to come so easily. It makes me scratch my head and marvel at how incredibly amazing is the technology that we struggle to artificially recreate with RAM and CPU power.
Tuesday, February 13, 2007
Living for tomorrow
This past Friday morning, I greeted a co-worker who returned the salutation with a desire for it to be Friday afternoon. I quickly pointed out that if it were Friday afternoon, we'd be that much closer to Monday morning. This morning, as I reached for the pot of coffee, this same co-worker greeted me with the information that we were five days away from the weekend.
One of the biggest struggles I face is procrastination. So often I subscribe to the philosophy, "why do today that which can be put off til tomorrow." Of course this outlook has the converse ability of bitting me in the butt. I've missed deadlines at the office, because I waited to the last minute to turn my attention to a pressing matter. I've had the humbling experience of utility services being cutoff, not because of lack of funding, but because I just hadn't gotten out to pay the bill. Nothing can be more frustrating to the misses than to come home with the water turned off or the power disconnected, knowing full well that the "disconnect" was solely my own.
I've yet again renewed my focus to be action oriented. I'm carrying a task list with me, with a full intention to close out my day with all the tasks crossed off. Rather than focusing on the bigger picture of a project or initiative, I'm in the mode to ask myself what action item needs to be done next. However, inevitably I face occasions when karma is against me. This evening, I went up to the office to complete two tasks on my list today. After spending ten minutes, I realized that I'd forgotten a piece of paper needed to complete one of the task. I was able to complete the other, but as I returned to my vehicle I found a parking ticket for leaving the van in a fire lane. So I'm 1 for 2 with a fine to boot. Faced with this knowledge, I'm ready to fill out tomorrow's list fully aware that tomorrow is another day. I guess the lesson to be learned, tomorrow is another opportunity to succeed, as long as we aren't neglecting the opportunities to be had today
One of the biggest struggles I face is procrastination. So often I subscribe to the philosophy, "why do today that which can be put off til tomorrow." Of course this outlook has the converse ability of bitting me in the butt. I've missed deadlines at the office, because I waited to the last minute to turn my attention to a pressing matter. I've had the humbling experience of utility services being cutoff, not because of lack of funding, but because I just hadn't gotten out to pay the bill. Nothing can be more frustrating to the misses than to come home with the water turned off or the power disconnected, knowing full well that the "disconnect" was solely my own.
I've yet again renewed my focus to be action oriented. I'm carrying a task list with me, with a full intention to close out my day with all the tasks crossed off. Rather than focusing on the bigger picture of a project or initiative, I'm in the mode to ask myself what action item needs to be done next. However, inevitably I face occasions when karma is against me. This evening, I went up to the office to complete two tasks on my list today. After spending ten minutes, I realized that I'd forgotten a piece of paper needed to complete one of the task. I was able to complete the other, but as I returned to my vehicle I found a parking ticket for leaving the van in a fire lane. So I'm 1 for 2 with a fine to boot. Faced with this knowledge, I'm ready to fill out tomorrow's list fully aware that tomorrow is another day. I guess the lesson to be learned, tomorrow is another opportunity to succeed, as long as we aren't neglecting the opportunities to be had today
Monday, February 5, 2007
Coping with Tragedy
For many of us, we've experience the loss of a grandparent, parent, or even friend. We've mourned the loss in various ways and managed through the grief that lingers, especially if the person was close to us. As we watch the evening news, we may experience sadness in learning about tragic deaths of parents, teenagers, and even children. For my family we attempt to shield our children from these news stories, partly because we are uncertain how our children will process the information and partly because we don't want to overexpose them to the cruel and tragic nature of this world (they'll get plenty exposure soon enough).
Recently a little girl was killed in our city by a drive by shooting. The little girl was asleep in her bed in the front of the house, which received the brunt of the spraying bullets. My children's bedroom faces the front of our house, and it was a matter of days before this event was the topic amongst my children's classmates. My oldest came home one day worried, about being killed in her sleep. So the last couple of weeks, my bride and I have tucked our children into bed, and prayed over them.
This morning I received a call that another little girl had been killed. This time it was a stabbing, but more importantly this time the child attended the same school as my children. Suddenly the tragic events across town were closure than ever. Its very probable that my middle child had played with this latest little girl, and so my wife and I are in the midst of preparing for the eventual questions my children will have.
I enter this preparation wanting to communicate to my kids that they are safe, loved, and that they shouldn't necessarily dwell on this recent event. At the same time I know that I can not completely protect them from everything. I don't want to fuel their anxiety or fears, but I also don't want to give them a false hope of security that "nothing bad will ever happen to them." I'm also unsure what questions they will have, and what information they have already processed.
Experts tell us that the first and most important thing we parents can do is tell and show our children that we love them. When talking about the subject, we should invite kids into our arms. There is reassurance in the clutches of a parent which will help when we don't have all the answers to the bewildering number of questions the children can submit. The second thing the experts tell us, is that we need to allow our children to ask the questions. It's not simply a process of answering the questions, but more about encouraging the children to share their concerns and questions. Finally the experts tell us to answer the questions we can with age appropriate responses. For younger children that view the world in concrete terms we answer them with concrete answers, being aware that every word is being held for future reference. For older children who have a sense of more abstract concepts, we can explain things in a more abstract manner. Of course the most difficult question to answer is that of WHY. Because this is more difficult, because this isn't always apparent in the news reports, because this is often the fuel for anxiety for my own children, this is what I'm most apprehensive about tackling with my kids.
When people told me that raising kids is difficult, I pretty certain they weren't talking about the schedules, homework, or diaper changing. The difficult part is guiding them through the maze of events in their life that often don't make sense or that we've taken for granted the significant impact they hold.
Recently a little girl was killed in our city by a drive by shooting. The little girl was asleep in her bed in the front of the house, which received the brunt of the spraying bullets. My children's bedroom faces the front of our house, and it was a matter of days before this event was the topic amongst my children's classmates. My oldest came home one day worried, about being killed in her sleep. So the last couple of weeks, my bride and I have tucked our children into bed, and prayed over them.
This morning I received a call that another little girl had been killed. This time it was a stabbing, but more importantly this time the child attended the same school as my children. Suddenly the tragic events across town were closure than ever. Its very probable that my middle child had played with this latest little girl, and so my wife and I are in the midst of preparing for the eventual questions my children will have.
I enter this preparation wanting to communicate to my kids that they are safe, loved, and that they shouldn't necessarily dwell on this recent event. At the same time I know that I can not completely protect them from everything. I don't want to fuel their anxiety or fears, but I also don't want to give them a false hope of security that "nothing bad will ever happen to them." I'm also unsure what questions they will have, and what information they have already processed.
Experts tell us that the first and most important thing we parents can do is tell and show our children that we love them. When talking about the subject, we should invite kids into our arms. There is reassurance in the clutches of a parent which will help when we don't have all the answers to the bewildering number of questions the children can submit. The second thing the experts tell us, is that we need to allow our children to ask the questions. It's not simply a process of answering the questions, but more about encouraging the children to share their concerns and questions. Finally the experts tell us to answer the questions we can with age appropriate responses. For younger children that view the world in concrete terms we answer them with concrete answers, being aware that every word is being held for future reference. For older children who have a sense of more abstract concepts, we can explain things in a more abstract manner. Of course the most difficult question to answer is that of WHY. Because this is more difficult, because this isn't always apparent in the news reports, because this is often the fuel for anxiety for my own children, this is what I'm most apprehensive about tackling with my kids.
When people told me that raising kids is difficult, I pretty certain they weren't talking about the schedules, homework, or diaper changing. The difficult part is guiding them through the maze of events in their life that often don't make sense or that we've taken for granted the significant impact they hold.
Tuesday, January 30, 2007
Old Friends
One of my college roommates called me yesterday and indicated that he was in town. So today we sat down for a cup of coffee to catch up. It always amazes me that despite the fact that I've not seen this roommate in three or so years, we immediately fall into our typical routine. During college we'd see each other around campus and I would bellow his name, followed by a return bellow from him of mine. As I walked into my office this morning, he was sitting at my desk, and my first inclination was to bellow his name.
This roommate has been a youth minister outside of DC for ten years now. Myself, I've been in my current job for nine. We shared insights of our current tenures. We both have struggled with feeling the need to move on, we have both assessed our effectivenesses (respectively), and we both have explored the ramifications of such decisions on our families. During college we'd often sit on the porch of our house and contemplate our futures. Would their be wives, children, success, failures, happiness, or sorrow? For the last couple of years, I've lingered on the thought of returning to those days when the most pressing demand on my time was the pages of reading due the next day. Don't get me wrong. I thoroughly appreciate and enjoy the family I'm blessed with today, and the opportunities that I've been presented with. However I don't get the opportunity to sit back and reflect, project, or simply enjoy a nice cigar or bowl of tobacco in my pipe.
Without question, I enjoyed the opportunity to share experiences of raising children, being loving husbands, and developing our skills as professionals. Despite the distance that separate us, I find it curious that our similarities out weigh the differences. Maybe this is what bonded us as roommates a decade ago.
I would encourage anyone and everyone to connect with an old friend. It's refreshing to celebrate our younger years, to take note of how the years have faired for each other, and offer blessings and prayers for those years to come. Raise your cup and salute the friendships that have continued to with little maintenance.
This roommate has been a youth minister outside of DC for ten years now. Myself, I've been in my current job for nine. We shared insights of our current tenures. We both have struggled with feeling the need to move on, we have both assessed our effectivenesses (respectively), and we both have explored the ramifications of such decisions on our families. During college we'd often sit on the porch of our house and contemplate our futures. Would their be wives, children, success, failures, happiness, or sorrow? For the last couple of years, I've lingered on the thought of returning to those days when the most pressing demand on my time was the pages of reading due the next day. Don't get me wrong. I thoroughly appreciate and enjoy the family I'm blessed with today, and the opportunities that I've been presented with. However I don't get the opportunity to sit back and reflect, project, or simply enjoy a nice cigar or bowl of tobacco in my pipe.
Without question, I enjoyed the opportunity to share experiences of raising children, being loving husbands, and developing our skills as professionals. Despite the distance that separate us, I find it curious that our similarities out weigh the differences. Maybe this is what bonded us as roommates a decade ago.
I would encourage anyone and everyone to connect with an old friend. It's refreshing to celebrate our younger years, to take note of how the years have faired for each other, and offer blessings and prayers for those years to come. Raise your cup and salute the friendships that have continued to with little maintenance.
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