An update, a post, what next!?!?!?! :)

Though you may not have realized it, the heartbeat of Horton Hollow is still strong. That is to say, I'm still kicking. My posts have been sporadic I realize but my heart remains, to write for those that will read my virtualized scrawlings. I'm still getting my feet under me, not being one that adapts quickly to large, sweeping changes in the schedule.

I am ramping up to start back on this blog as well as starting on a business blog of my own. Additionally, I'm beginning a joint-venture business blog wherein some partners and I will be sharing some things about business-building, investing, technology, etc.

It's an exciting time for me! But busy too. Horton Hollow is where my heart is, where I can be "me" and let my (remaining) hair down and write about whatever we like. Before I sign off, let me share some updates:

• Weight loss: still a struggle but I've plenty of fight in me and I'm far too stubborn to quit.
• Business: well see above you silly-head! :) I've lots to share there and things are going well.
• Our out-building: honestly I tried to break this deal and not get it after all. Turns out though, even though I "could" get out of it, I think it's prudent to go through with it. So things are moving there. We have some plans
• Isabella and Josh: well I'm sure you'd not recognize either of them. Josh has quickly become a young man, no longer a child to be sure. And our little Isabella is crawling and trying her darndest to say something we can all understand. She turned 10 months yesterday. The times, they do be a flyin!

You guys are all awesome! Thanks for reading! Keep up the CPR with comments, it helps the writing heartbeat stronger!

Ode to a dude ... OR ... A post for my son

Son I want to dedicate this post to you.  The following is a description of "a boy" by Alan Beck.  It made me think of you when I read it today.

Between the innocence of babyhood and the dignity of manhood, we find a delightful creature called a boy. Boys come in assorted sizes, weights and colors, but all boys have the same creed: to enjoy every second of every minute of every hour of every day and to protest with noise (their only weapon) when their last minute is finished and the adult males pack them off to bed at night.


Boys are found everywhere—on top of, underneath, inside of, climbing on, swinging from, running around or jumping to. Mothers love them, little girls hate them, older sisters and brothers tolerate them, adults ignore them and Heaven protects them. A boy is Truth with dirt on its face, Beauty with a cut on its finger, Wisdom with bubble gum in its hair and the Hope of the future with a frog in its pocket.


When you are busy a boy is an inconsiderate, bothersome, intruding jangle of noise. When you want him to make a good impression, his brain turns to jelly or else he becomes a savage, sadistic, jungle creature bent on destroying the world and himself with it.


A boy is a composite—he has the appetite of a horse, the digestion of a sword swallower, the energy of a pocket-size atomic bomb, the curiosity of a cat, the lungs of a dictator, the imagination of a Paul Bunyan, the shyness of a violet, the audacity of a steel trap, the enthusiasm of a fire cracker, and when he makes something he has five thumbs on each hand.


He likes ice cream, knives, saws, Christmas, comic books, the boy across the street, woods, water (in its natural habitat), large animals, Dad, trains, Saturday mornings and fire engines.


He is not much for Sunday school, company, schools, books without pictures, music lessons, neckties, barbers, girls, overcoats, adults, or bedtime.


Nobody else is so early to rise or so late to supper. Nobody else gets so much fun out of trees, dogs and breezes. Nobody else can cram into one pocket-a rusty knife, a half eaten apple, three feet of string, an empty Bull Durham sack, two gum drops, six cents, a sling shot, a chunk of unknown substance and a genuine supersonic code ring with a secret compartment.


A boy is a magical creature—you can lock him out of your workshop, but you can’t lock him out of your heart. You can get him out of your study, but you can’t get him out of your mind.


Might as well give up—he is your captor, your jailer, your boss and your master–a freckled-faced, pint-sized, cat-chasing, bundle of noise.


But when you come home at night with only the shattered pieces of your hopes and dreams—he can mend them like new with the two magic words—”Hi Dad!

Well man, I'm not the wordsmith that Mr Beck is and probably can't say things as well.

But let me start by saying ... I'm so proud of you.

When I look at you, I don't see just a kid who likes video games.  I see a young man who is passionate, and good at things that other folks aren't.  I see someone who is a bit like his Dad and hard-headed at times.  But you'll find that hard-hardheadedness will get you through more trouble in life than it causes.  :)

I see a guy who is sensitive and will someday treat a woman with the respect she deserves and, if you end up having kids, I have complete confidence you'll be a good father.

How do I know that?  Simple.  You have a great big heart that is full of love.

When I look at you, I also see a guy who is shy sometimes but that's not all bad either.  I know it seems like it at times though.  But being shy just sometimes makes you cautious.  That's a good thing.  It all gets better as you grow.

So give yourself time to grow and for my sake, don't grow up too fast huh?  I like having you around.  :)

One last thing before I end this post.

Everybody has their passion.  Find yours and never let it go.  Sometimes folks around you will criticize you for following your dreams, especially if they don't benefit from it.

But never be ashamed to be who you are.  And always remember, no matter what ...

I believe in you.  I always have.  I always will.

Forgive an old man for being sentimental around the holidays will ya?  I love you son :)  Sure I'm your Dad but, know too that I'll be here for you as a friend when you need it.

Always.
Love Dad

Father-son talks .. OR .. One fish, two fish the new one's a pink fish

There are 35 days or so to go before the genital scales of our home are balanced at Castle Horton.

My wife has sat alone on her side of the scales for 13+ years, enduring the task of being the only female in the house. I’m sure she’s glad she’ll no longer have to listen to my lame excuses that some of our pets are female so that technically “counts” as girl-company.

From my dad-point-of-view this new girl (Thing 2) coming along brings a new set of challenges to the realm of Daddom (new word right, there … THAT just happened, trademarked, copyrighted, I called it, my germs, no take backs, etc).

Ahem.

Some of those challenges are already occurring. Thing 1 has some concerns about not being the only child anymore, not to mention that Thing 2 is a girl, bringing with her parade of things that aren’t manly.

I see where he’s coming from, I really do. And he and I have been talking about it. We’ve been having lots of discussions. From mustache care, to protecting the peas, to driving, to moving, to .. just him getting older. All that stuff. Like any young man, he has some concerns and worries.

There IS a side benefit to worry.

Particularly if you live in an open-communication household as we do. See in our house, you get to talk about it all and everyone’s opinion is valid. Sure you might still get some ribbing and you might get to give some ribbing but I listen to Thing 2’s opinion with equal weight as my wife’s.

Shocker? Well it’s my approach and it’s working out great so far.

A recent conversation of mine and Thing 1’s went just like this …

Me: So with Isabella coming along, I wanted your advice on something. Do you mind?
Thing 1: Nope (but he looks apprehensive as though this might somehow cost him video game time).
Me: Well what I was wondering was this. When you think back about it, are there things that you think me and mom were too strict on with you, or areas in which we need to lighten up when it comes Isabellas’s turn?
Thing 1: [he pauses for thought and just for that alone I’m proud] I think you should get her out to see as many people as possible by the time she’s 2 years old. You should have done that with me. It’s why I’m so shy.

Well don’t ask if you don’t want an answer right?

I have to say, he’s totally dead-on-balls-accurate with his assessment of the situation. And I dig that kind of directness. I respect that. Oddly enough, Heather and I had been talking about that very thing, socialization, when she and I took our trip to Iowa. We had some alone time to talk then and that had come up.

So I really dug his advice. Told him so.

And we are going to put that into play. It was a brilliant call on his part to recognize that. Of all the things, both mature and immature that he could have said, I’m so glad he chose that one.

Thing 1 is a very bright lad. He’s typical in a lot of ways and not so typical in others. I’m sure some folks would look down their noses at us on the “not so typical” things. I won’t get into all of what that means here. That’s for another post.

But lately as it comes closer to baby-time, he and I are having more and more of these types of conversations. I asked him also over the weekend, if I could come to him from time to time to get another guys’ perspective on things. He solemnly nodded and said “I totally understand; that makes perfect sense to do that”.

I love that guy. He’s getting cooler every day.

I had this thought earlier this morning too. As he’s hitting puberty square in the face .. or rather as it hits him square in the hormones .. we’ll be going through the 2 year old phase with Thing 2. This should be quite a ride. But I view it differently than some may. I view it as a time to strengthen the foundations of our relationship as we work through stuff.

If you’re out there laughing about that last part, then clearly you don’t know how tenacious I can be about making sure things are ok in a relationship.

Thing 1 is growing up fast. He’s becoming more and more help around the house. It’s gonna be just me and him as the men of the house. Soon he’ll be even more help on yardwork, lifting things, etc – and he’s taking an interest in it. I’m glad we didn’t force that stuff down his throat. He’s coming along at his own pace and as I write this I get a little misty thinking about it.

But more importantly than the physical help over these next years, I’m going to have just another dude to talk to from time to time. These are the years coming up for which I’ve been in extreme anticipation.

I’m excited. :)

What are "you" looking at .. OR ..The Lounging Linguist

My son comes up with great words now and again.

He’s really coming into his own with the sarcasm.

I couldn’t be prouder.

Much like me, he’s shy around new people but man once he gets comfortable, watch out. I can totally relate. He has this raw talent to be a real smart-alec.

Ever see those trick shooters? The ones that can shoot a playing card and split it in half? Or they can light a match, firing a bullet from their gun?

His talent with sarcasm is just like that, only he’s using a shotgun to light the match. Oh he hits the target all right. But um, precision and control will take some practice.

But I for one am so excited that things are turning out this way. Though raw in form right now, this opens up a whole new channel of “guy communication” that over the coming years will allow us to develop a closeness that may not have otherwise been possible.

It’s a big deal.

I’m a huge fan of this type of getting along too. If I can’t joke around with someone well then I usually don’t have much time for them in my life and I tend to drift away from them. He seems to be that way as well.

His sarcasm, as I alluded to when this post began, really allows him to come off with some zingers. Today was no exception and worth writing down.

My wife is very pregnant right now. She and I were swimming/lounging in the pool today, talking about life in general and the impending birth of Thing Two. Josh walks out on our little dock and is talking to us. Heather my wife, slipped off her raft and begins to swim a bit.

She struggled at first to get her balance cause hey, she’s preggers. There are a lot of adjustments to be made, with nearly every movement she makes during the day. I can’t begin to imagine. But she righted the ship … ahem … and was swimming nicely.

Josh, ever the diplomat, says “Wow, I didn’t think you’d be able to swim that well. Looks like being pregnant has made you more FLOATACIOUS”.

I immediately lost it and snorted pool water, laughing as a new word at Castle Horton was born. And yes we were all laughing about it, not just me :)

P.S. – I asked Josh for a pic today to post with this. He immediately broke into a polite smile, ready to be immortalized on Dad’s blog. Instead of taking the polite pic, I asked him for the teenager look of "what are you doing bothering me again you big dork”.

I love this kid!

It has BEGUN! ... Mortallll Kombaaaaat!

Remember that line from the movie Mortal Kombat? Shang Tsung said it not long before all hell broke loose on the would-be-heroes.

Now that we have a teenager living in the midst of our heroic parenting efforts, I think of this line quite, QUITE often. I've realized that Shang Tsung has moved in with us while I wasn't looking. And as a Dad I don't really compare very well to Liu Kang, the hero in Mortal Kombat.

The thing is, when I perform my "fatherly advice" attacks, generally our resident Shang sloughs it off by performing "eyeroll", using my own movements against me to leave me staggering, trying to regain balance. The frustrating thing is that he somehow manages to do all this while simultaneously playing a video game. So it doesn't even take Shang's full attention to defeat me. Oh he's good.

But age and treachery will always overcome youth and skill.

If you're not up on these video game references, stick with me anyway. We'll do algebra in a bit. There is something in this post for everybody ;)

Ok, I realize that I'm not the only Dad out there that feels like he's not listened to, or getting through to his kid, from time to time. And certainly I'm not the only Dad who's even blogged about it. I follow several other Dad's blogs and read them everytime they post just to help me keep my sanity or realize that I'm not alone. Plus they are really, really funny.

Finally, I'm quite positive that I'm not the only Dad who feels as though the proverbial "window of listening" with my teenager is fast closing. I do admit that I may be the only nerd-dad on the planet who is geeky enough to compare all this to the final showdown between Liu Kang and Shang Tsung though. But I'm ok with that.

So yes Heather and I both regularly get lots of eyerolls, sighs of exasperation, tones of voice I could do without, etc etc - at our house. So I'm pretty sure the "window" if its still open at all is open only but a crack. (I NEARLY said butt-crack there ... oh come, that was funny!)

I suppose I really should go out and get some books on the subject of raising a teen. I feel ill-prepared. And for those of who you actually know me IRL, you KNOWS I likes me some preparedness. Boooooy do I!

As of right now, at times it feels as if I'm talking through that aforementioned window to my teenager, my face pressed to the edge of the opening as the window slides inexorably down ... with me speaking as fast as I can ... hoping to get my final few words in ... desperately and frantically trying to think of all the stuff I may have missed ... things I needed to say - before that window is shut ... before I'm left looking through the glass into another house and my voice becomes muffled by the barrier.

Yes there is a dark side of me, the curse that all fathers get if you will, similar to the one mothers use on their children, and it whispers ...

"when he's older he'll regret not listening now" ... and ...
"when that happens, he'll come back and want to listen to you when his kids start behaving like this".

I have to darkly chuckle as I try so very hard NOT to become good friends with this voice.

All of this then raises the question, is this something all parents go through? Are we all just so lambasted by raising teens that we get this fruity? Most likely I'm just a misfit. It's a typical tale.

But for all my weird writing above, I know in my heart of hearts everything generally works out. I do live by a motto of "I always win" ... and I do. I don't mean to sound pretentious either.

Tis a self-slogan that I use to remind me that eventually "it all works out". While things may seem confusing/frustrating at times it really will be okay in the long run. Raising kids into teens, then into men and women isn't easy. But we all have it in us to do this very thing.

And now let me try and close this circle.

Josh is growing up. I need to remember how it was, how I felt when I was that age. Yes I thought my mom and step dad were both idiots, and I thought it quite often. But I still loved them. He probably has similar feelings as I did back then.

Now I have seemingly been slingshotted around to the other side of the equation ... the parenting side. I'm seeing the same equation but from the other side of the "equals symbol". Mrs Collier, my high school algebra teacher taught me a great lesson once. I remember her exact quote.

"What thou doest to one side of the equals, thou must also doest to the other". (She didn't always talk like this but rather did this to get our attention and it stuck with me).

So now, what once worked for solving an algebraic equation, I get to apply to parenting.
Incoming supernerdiness ... beware ...
When you balance the equation x + 7 = 10, solving for x, you have to subtract 7 from both sides, coming up with x = 3. You have to do the same thing to both sides of the equation to find your answer.

(I think I actually HEAR people leaving my blog at this point, lol)

In parenting its very similar. But you now have x + teenager = adult.

Balancing THAT equation is the actual problem we all have at times. And we need to do the same things to both side of the equation to get our answer. So .... what indeed do you get when you subtract teenager from adult?

The answer is easy: experience. See? And you thought you'd never use algebra again?

So its my son's lack of experience and my abundance of it, that provides that communication gap. Its what he lacks in order to relate to me on my "level" and what I forget I have sometime and it keeps me from relating to him on his. The burden falls to me as the experienced to teach the one who isn't. So actually its all very simple. The answer usually is simple. However its the implementation that eludes me at times.

And it doesn't fix the fact that he drives me nuts by not listening :)

Someday yes, Josh and I will laugh about all this. I'll rib him for not listening "now" when we laugh about it "then". It will be fun and I do look forward to it.

Parenting. Algebra. Mortal Kombat - oh yeah, it's how we roll here at Castle Horton, in the midst of Horton Hollow.

By the way, Liu Kang did eventually kick Shang's butt.

Liu always wins.

Fatherhood Fridays: Marriage and Raising a Teen

Wow Friday is here already? I’m up early, can’t sleep again, so I thought I’d get a start on this, finishing it up later in the day.

I’m not even sure what I’ve posted this week, tis been a blur of activity. I do see a pattern with my blogging. “If it ain’t a themed-day I pretty much don’t post”. Well I’ll rectify that and get back to rambling on about something every day. Honest and for true I will.

And one more time, let me just say, it’s so very nice to be able to post2 again from work. Okay I’ll stop beating that happy horse. Blah, blah … you’re glad to be back Rob .. so blog already :)

Well on this Fatherhood Friday I wanted to write some about how this particular dad feels about venturing into the teen years with my son, as well as, being a new dad again.

Easy part first. The new dad stuff. I think that’s gonna work out fine. I did have trouble adjusting to it at first. I don’t shift gears very fast. Heck not cause I’m an insensitive jerk, but because the pregnancy is a big deal to me too. And a big adjustment. I hear you out there .. “what does he have to complain about, he’s not the one who’s pregnant?”. To that I will say a resounding … shaddup you.

Guys have every right to their opinion on pregnancy just as do women. In my marriage, and yes Heather reads this and I know she’ll back me up; we have equal parts in everything and respect each other’s opinion. My thoughts and feelings are important to Heather on this and I have every right to voice them, even though Oprah wouldn’t like my wife’s view on that.

Society today treats men as though we don’t have a right to voice our opinions in “women’s issues”. What a load of crap. Like racism, if most people could get over their on-going gender war issues, we could live a lot more peacefully. Neither the mom nor the dad has it harder than the other one in a good marriage. Marriage is a team sport. If someone in a marriage is having a consistently harder time with something, then some open, honest and patient communication is a good cure-all.

I said all that because it was another thing I had to get over in my marriage and Heather had to help me. From my upbringing, I really didn’t think I had much say in the pregnancy thing. I had no “right” to worry or be distraught by anything. A man’s job is to silently and strongly provide for this family and to display feelings or doubts in regards to his job was to show weakness. That’s how I was raised.

Again. Crap.

So there were some things I went through. A new sense of responsibility that at first I rebelled against internally. A sense of fear. A sense of guilt for having those feelings. Then a further sense of aloneness because nobody really “got” what I was going through (it really sucks being a misfit). Guys by the way, generally speaking, are oddly enough NOT the ones to talk to about “guy fears”. They slough it off; tell you to suck it up, call you “old man”, really useless stuff like that.

Not very helpful when you’re hurting .. and none of which I needed to hear.

My best pal did help me out a lot and encouraged me to keep the lines of communication open with Heather. I did. And glory be, it worked. But it wasn’t easy for me to talk about because of my upbringing. So as I usually do, I sent Heather a long email. Technology is great for our marriage.

You see when one of us doesn’t know how to get out what we need to say “in the moment”, we often will email each other. This allows us to get our thoughts in order and have a much more meaningful, focused conversation later. It really works for us. And following my bestest buddies’ advice I did it again this time, and the email-conversation-kicker-offer, worked great.

Heather validated my feelings, as only she can. And hopefully I’ve been there for her when she needs to talk. I hope I have been there for you dear. I do try. If I haven’t listened well though, then pull me aside and gently correct me like you usually do.

So.

Daddyhood is going to be fun again. There are some really neat things I look forward to in this second run at this whole child-rearing thing. I think Josh and I will get closer during this time too, which has been happening anyway since he seems more grown up every day.

And that brings me to the teen years part of my post but I’m outta time.

Maybe I’ll write more about the teen years in another post. But for now let me say I’m proud of my son. I couldn’t love him more. I remember sitting in the hallway of the hospital right after he was born. After all the process, worry, and unknown of watching Heather give birth .. feeling so strong but useless at the same time, I was completely drained, devoid of anything and feeling utterly hollow . So I’d gone out to the hallway to let others visit with Heather and so I could think for a moment.

I suddenly felt a near physical change on the inside of me as all that love clicked into place for me. I’ve never lost it and never will. That first night as Josh slept in my arms, in the chair I was in next to Heather’s hospital bed, I quietly whisper-sang him a song of encouragement, telling him all the things I hoped for him in his life. It was 2:30 in the morning. I'll remember that night as long as I have breath.

As we enter these teen years, he and I, it makes me sad because I know that someday not all that far off, he’ll leave to be on his own. I’ll see how that hope I sang to him in that song and the hope I tried to give him over the years with my actions; how much of it is revealed in the man he will become.

Also as we enter these years, I’m also happy. Very much so. Because we are going to get to have more man-to-man talks. Share more mature feelings. And there are so many things I have to tell him yet. I can’t wait for the next moment sometimes.

I’m glad I’m here to see it all. And I’m glad I’m here to help. There is no place else I’d rather be.

The Ol Homestead

Well it's finally snowed here in dear old Missouri. I heard on the news the other day that Earth is starting to enter a cooling phase much like it's been in a warming cycle for some time now. Anyhoo, cooling is fine by me. I miss WINTER baby! I like me some snow, I like me some ice, I like it, like it, like it! :) Give me some snow from the first of December till the end of February, haha! Ok I'm sure it didn't snow THAT much here when I was growing up but looking back on things and remembering them through a child's eyes it sure seems like we had a lot of snows.

And anyway, to celebrate the snow and to finally post some pics on my blog (shush you and you know who you are), here are some pics, inside and out. We are currently cleaning up the house for a birthday party this weekend so there will be more pics of the inside "pre party" and NONE immediately post party :) lol

This is from last weekend with good stuff on the ground. It was ubr snowball-snow. Almost wet enough for the dreaded slush-ball! But not quite. Josh had a lot of fun with the "chuck-it" which is basically a very large plastic ice-cream scoop thing which is normally used to chuck tennis balls for doggies but turned out to be a really nice "snowball launcher plantinum edition 5000" :)

This is a shot looking down our front fence in the front yard. You're standing about halfway down the front yard at this point. Now down at the other end of that fence and past it aways, there is 16 acres or so for sale right next door to us ... cough, cough, elbow elbow.

This is a shot from our little deck I worked on last year. Like my handrail design. Ah and there is the mammal-flesh char-er ... just about time to crank that thing up again. Yes I grill all year long, snow or not. There is not a bad season in which to enjoy a nice steak :)

And here is a shot of my lovely son, fruit of my loins and I'm pretty sure he's taking a shot at the peas with this snowball throw. Follow the eyes, take in the grin ... yep, that's right.

And here is a pretty good shot of the kiddo and the puppy. This one I may print and put on my desk at work. I like it a lot.

Here is another picture of our little darling in the kitchen. Yes folks those counters are as tall as yours are most likely and this delicate little flower is still growing. :) And yes darn it, I bought her a pink cammo bandana at Petsmart the other night (shush again).

And lastly, here is our furriest kid (although Josh is getting leg hair) asleep on the couch. Isn't she lovely folks? This is how big GSDs get folks. I bet those crossed with Boxers get this big too - won't that be a hoot! :)

The Gift of History

Ah tis that time of year, the weather is getting colder and December is coming on. Mom and Dad are checking their bank account and budget whilst a certain youngling of ours makes a list and checks it twice. Yep, you guesed it, Josh's birthday is coming up :)

And what gift, I ask, can be better than that of history? Am I right? See, there is this gift that I make for Josh every year but he never gets it. I've been doing it his whole life. And although it directly relates to him, at precisly where he's at each year, he's not yet ready for the gift. And so Dad waits. What is this gift you may ask?

A letter.

Or more to the point, letters. Each year of Josh's life I've written him a letter, detailing the highlights of that year for him. When he's 18, he'll get them all from dear old Dad. Honestly, I can't remember the "why" or "how" of this letter writing business. But I'm glad I've stuck with it.

If you're a person reading this blog, I have some tips for you, should you decide to take up pen and paper, or in my case, monitor and keyboard to fashion some letters of the heartstrings for certain younglings in your life. Here is how I do mine anyway and perhaps you can take something from this for your own ... feel free.

I generally sit down and write with one thing in mind. I pretend that Josh is already 18 and I'm telling him all about his "whatever number year" it is with all the clarity that recent memory can bring. Said another way, I picture it like a narration of his past year but written to an adult. Just like I'm talking to him. And I write it all down. I don't get all weird and make notes all throughtout the year. Its not a "captains log", its a letter of reflection, relax already :)
I do try to anticipate any questions he might have in the future, about what I'm writing, and address those issues too. And most of all, I write in advice along the way from one man to another. Fatherly things I've learned along the way, that year, that there is no way I'll remember when he's 20, 30, or 40. Sometimes it's even about marriage.

The point is that these are details that I'll only remember right now, in these moments when I sit down to think about how he's grown, the facial expressions he uses, what we've experienced as a family, the things he finds funny, the shows he likes, and as many of the goofy things we do together; that most likely I will have forgotten with the passage of time and so will he. But it's those small things, that I'm trying to write down now, that will be a big part of making him the man he will be someday. So hopefully, when he's older and ready to read all of these letters, it will be a wealth of information and sparks for future conversations between him and me.

A lot of times, fathers and sons grow apart over time. I'm hoping that these letters can be a part of keeping that door propped open so we can still walk through it all the time in the coming years.

Well, okay - coming up for air ... that was more a list of feelings that a list of "how-to's" wasn't it? But I think you get the picture. Now for those of you who think history is boring, take a look at your kid(s). Think about all the things you'll forget if you don't chronicle it now in some way. Doesn't need to be letters like I'm writing. Maybe writing isn't your bag. But do something. Don't let your family's memories just pass without holding onto them somehow.

Strong families are built on good relationships, and good relationships are built on communication. A major way we communicate is talking about what has been, not what will be. Talking about our history and learning from it is one big way in how we grow.

Remember, nobody ever learned anything from the future and you can't make things better based on tomorrows; start today :)