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You Will Be Found

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I’ve heard many versions of the song “You Will be Found” (see links at bottom) from the Broadway hit musical Dear Evan Hansen. Within the context of the show, the song has a certain meaning, but it wasn’t until recently when I heard it performed in a different venue that it took on a whole new meaning for me.  As a I was driving our foster daughter to camp, this song came on the radio station K-Love performed by Christian artists Natalie Grant and Corey Asbury. The lyrics always strike me and give me pause, stirring me to think about the message behind them. And so it was on this summer day the beauty of this song brought me to reflect on it in an entirely different way. Perhaps that is the power of music, that two people can hear the same song, and it can have a completely different meaning to each of them. Or in this case, the same person can hear the same song in a different context and come to understand it from a new perspective. As I listened to the words that morning, it felt li
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The Pain We Carry

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"Everyone has a plan until they get punched in the mouth." If you've heard this before, then you probably know it's from the former heavyweight champ Mike Tyson. While the original reference may have been about boxing in the ring, it also holds true for blows we take in life. Especially the unexpected ones. Last year, I was hit with one of those blows when my mom called me early one Friday morning to say my dad was being rushed to the hospital. 48 hours later, he was gone. It is now nearly 10 months since he passed and that weekend I spent with my mom back and forth to the hospital still feels surreal. Like it didn't happen, but yet I was there and it did. I recall being in the room with my mom when my dad passed, crying tears of sadness but also relief that he would no longer be in pain, and then as I often do, looking up at the sky. As some of you  know, I enjoy landscape photography and often watch the sky for great light. That day, I remember the most glor
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Broken Shells

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The last days of August in New England are a time to enjoy what remains of summer with trips to the shoreline, walks along the beach and the more relaxed feel summer brings us. We recently took advantage of such time with a trip to a place I’ve not been in many years – Cape Cod. For those familiar with the Cape, making it over the Bourne bridge leaves you with a feeling of calmness and a more relaxed vibe.  Assuming of course you beat the traffic and made it through the rotary without incident to reach you destination. In our case, we were successful and made it to South Yarmouth for the start of our summer getaway.  What made this trip special was our 4-year old foster daughter joined us on vacation – it was our first time traveling with her and she did great on the car ride. Those with little ones in tow on 3-hour drives know what a challenge that can be.  Once we stopped for chicken nuggets, all was good.  After settling in, we decided to head to the place of childhood dreams – Pira
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Moments with Dad

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Father. Husband. Son. Brother. Grandpa. These were some of my dad's most important roles in life. How do you possibly put into words the sum total of a loved one's lifetime? How can it be measured? If dad were here, he'd say I want to know everything that's happened up until this point and start from the beginning. A line from a scene in one of his favorite movies, Airplane. I've had time to reflect on dad's life and what he meant to our family.  Perhaps the best way to remember dad is by cherishing memories of joyful moments.  So I'd like to share two of them with you, recalling time spent with him doing things he loved. Baseball The first story is from my earliest memories of dad and playing baseball. Dad was my first baseball coach that started with having a simple catch in the backyard. I grew up with his love of the Red Sox and to this day, still remember him waking me up to see the final inning of Game 6 in the ‘86 World Series. I was 13 years
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What's Your Everest?

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A recent conversation about stretch goals got me thinking about the new year and what’s ahead in 2022. It’s been some time since I wrote down my goals, let along some big ones – the kind you look at and feel uncomfortable because you think “well that would be nice, but is not realistic.”   Here’s a little secret – stretch goals, the kind that give us pause, should feel that way. Because "if your dreams don’t scare you, they aren’t big enough." Four years ago, in 2017, I attended a goal setting event at Mission Fitness with a group of about 20 members. We were asked to write down a stretch goal – one that felt within the realm of possibility, but also made us feel uncomfortable. This was done intentionally to get us thinking about self-imposed boundaries and reaching beyond our comfort zone. Sometimes it takes a friend to push us past the limits of what we think is achievable – and that is what this exercise was designed to do. At the event, I wrote down a goal to climb M
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Wonder

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A letter to my foster son   You came into this world before you were expected, born early and weighing just a few pounds.  You spent the first weeks of your life in a NICU with care provided by a medical team. As a substance exposed newborn, you faced obstacles other preemies do not in your earliest days. From the NICU, you entered state custody and were put into "the system." A family member was able to be with you a few months, but the demands were too much - a new home was needed for you. When you were 6 months old, DCF began to search for another provider, making calls to foster parents. One of those calls was to us. We spoke with a social worker who explained your case and asked if we were open to a placement. You arrived at our door the next afternoon. Your time with us has gone by so fast and caused me to reflect on our journey together. As I was driving home last night, the radio played a song by Zach Williams and Dolly Parton. It was one I heard before, but for some
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A Dream Deferred

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What happens to a dream deferred?  Does it dry up like a raisin in the sun? Or fester like a sore, and then run? Those words from the famous poem Harlem by Langston Hughes are ones I've carried with me since reading Fences by August Wilson as a college sophomore. The poem was printed on the opening page of the book.  Fast forward to a recent family vacation and a letter my father-in-law handed to my wife. It was one she had written to her future self when she was 14 years old, the same age my daughter is now.  In the letter, my wife described her dreams of attending college, becoming a teacher, getting married and having 4 children. All of which came true, except the four children part - at least not in the way she imagined.  You see, our younger selves lead us to believe life is a straight line or progressive path in which we take a series of steps towards our goals. Over time, we learn it is anything but a linear journey. Each of our path's is filled with ups and downs, set
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