Sitting with my family today (my mother and father in-law, my wife and two boys) I pause to reflect on a life changing anniversary. Ten years ago today I was experiencing my first Thanksgiving alone. I was not only sitting with other people who were not part of my family, I was sitting down alone in a food court in a strange country: 10,000 miles away from my wife and eight week-old first-born son.


I had this great piece I was writing for the past few weeks that started over an email I had received from a disgruntled member of the swim team for which I’m the director. The reason I spent so much time

Unexpectedly Coping

In the weeks since I last posted, a lot has been going on, and has gone on. The last four Little League games of the season. Our first and only playoff game. The start of the recreational swimming season. The end of the school year.

Each one of these things came with its own little set of concerns and responsibilities like my role as manager of the Little League team, and role as director of the swim team. Maybe it was my being overwhelmed by too many responsibilities. Maybe it was simple fatigue. Or maybe it was that I have yet to really confront the emotions that are wrapped up in what happened to my father almost ten years ago, but the moment I remember the most over the past three weeks

Painful Words

This is not an easy one for me because while the events were relatively innocuous, my own reaction to it was not. I’m, frankly, embarrassed by how I reacted, initially to what happened, but I’m hoping how I followed through with it made up for some of my short comings.