The coronavirus has changed the world. It has changed our lives. It has brought fear, sadness and disruption to our thoughts, emotions and the certainty we once had in our daily routine. Some have lost their faith. Some have lost their patience. Many have lost their loved ones. Life will be “different” from here on out. Different in how we act, think, work, learn, shop and even celebrate important milestones like graduations, anniversaries and even birthdays. For me, as I recently celebrated my 50th birthday, different is how I have labeled this moment in my life.

“Different” certainly applied to my birthday this month. With the quarantine still underway, all plans of a big 50th birthday celebration surrounded by friends and family had been “postponed”. No need for a snarky “Over the Hill” cake, lavish black decorations, witty old age invitations or large amounts of food. This year, social distancing and the coronavirus would limit how many I could invite and the magnitude of celebration I could have…at least that is what I thought.

As my birthday approached, I felt a sense anxiety, frustration and even a selfish disappointment. I kept reminding myself daily that the impact of the virus on my life had been minimal. Sure, the quarantine had led to a “different” place to work from, fewer dinners out, less time with friends and family, no haircuts and schooling from home…you know, first world problems. But we hadn’t lost anyone or known anyone that had. We were all safe and healthy. We had a home, food on the table and jobs. We were lucky and blessed. In fact, for us this was just a minor inconvenience. But even with that backdrop, the isolation, the media and 8+ weeks (and counting) in quarantine slowly seeped into my unconscious, poisoning my mindset and having me question my past, present and future.

“Would the financial markets and economy recover? Will I still have a job?”

“Would my kids fall behind in school? How would this experience impact them and who they become? “

“Worse, is it just a matter of time before my family, friends and I get the virus? Will they have a vaccine in time?”

Somehow this “intruder” began to limit my view on life and my dreams, clouding the lens I saw my blessings through. Even things as simple and insignificant as a milestone birthday would be impacted and truth be told, I had been planning (in my mind) a big party for years to celebrate 50. A way to commemorate this moment with the ones I care about. But the virus changed all that and selfishly I was disappointed. Wait, no I was mad.

“What now I thought? What do I want to do for my birthday? More importantly, with the quarantine what could I actually do?”

The options (in my mind) were limited but as the day got closer, it became clear. I chuckled when my wife asked “So have you decided?”

“Yes”, I said.

“Where?” she asked

“Where it all started…my hometown.” I replied.

So the plan was set.

My birthday morning started early as usual. First, a text from my high school best friend and best man at 5:15am. If anyone knew the first 50 years with me, he certainly did, so it was fitting he was the first to wish me a happy birthday. (My nephew was actually first but that’s because he had the date wrong and was 3 days early…lol)

Then on to my morning walk with a cup of coffee to the nearby lake, watching the sunrise and thinking…immersed in the moment and the milestone.

Then back to the house to pack lawn chairs and masks, to head for Milford, a small upstate NY town where a house that a Miranda Lambert song would say “built me.”

The first stop was seeing my dad, checking out his lawn and talk of when he would be putting in the garden…maintaining 6 feet of separation of course. Then to mom’s house where we would bring Brook’s BBQ Chicken for lunch like we had done for years.

Then a short hike in the woods to my favorite spots near her house with the kids and Amy, followed by relaxing in my favorite chair to gaze at the field across from her house.

Laughter, peace, healing, perspective and relief filled my mind. Exactly what I needed. Oh, an mom’s famous 7 layer cake…yes, there really are 7 layers!

As we departed, elbow bumps temporarily replaced kisses and hugs. Then a quick stop by my high school where 33 kids and I graduated in 1988 and a sign that coincidentally said “We Miss You”. Then to the cemetery to see the grandparents I lost 20+ years ago but whose influence still shape the man I am today .

Lastly, we decided to drive home via Cooperstown and a quick stop at Otsego lake and a drive by my favorite log cabin. The day was complete. I was exhausted. As my wife drove home, I drifted off to sleep in the back of the car. (This may seem like an insignificant point but those that know me, know that I always drive and rarely sit in the back. ) I guess my co-worker that recently turned 50 in February was right…naps are part of being 50!

Upon awakening minutes from home, I thought that even though this birthday was much “different” then I had originally imagined, the day had been perfect. Little did I know there was more to come…not from visiting the past like I had just done in Milford, but from the “present” that was being “unwrapped” in front of me.

Pulling into the driveway, I quickly noticed it had been beautifully decorated with hand written chalk messages wishing me a happy birthday…joking “It’s All Down Hill From Here” on my sloped driveway. Well played by my niece! Then into a house full of black and yellow, 50 themed(or Steelers) balloons and decorations, exactly as I had originally imagined in my mind. Cards and gifts were piled on the table. All that was missing were the guests….

After taking some pictures, the house was quiet.

Amy and the kids said “sit down on the couch, we have a surprise for you”. She then proceeded to played a 25 minute video of our lives together over the last few decades. Growing up in Milford. Dating. Marriage. Having kids. Our first home. Attending Steelers games. Vacations. The epilepsy foundation. Loved ones we lost. The ups and downs of life in it’s full raw and amazing glory. No filters. Just 50 years of memories. As I sat immersed in the video of memories, I felt blessed. Emotional. Grounded in what matters.

This was suddenly interrupted by the sound of vehicles outside…a birthday drive by had begun. Waves of family and close friends began showing up with horns, homemade Happy Birthday signs, balloons and more gifts in support of this “milestone”, maintaining social distance but feeling closer then ever. We laughed. Joked. Reminisced. Relaxed. It was incredible.

As people left, I told my wife and kids “that was awesome, thank you.” We then went into the house to prepare dinner, but was told there was “one more surprise” and that I should sit again on the couch. For another next 25 minutes, I watched countless video messages from friends, family and co-workers from as far as India and Europe as well as here in the States. Some people I “see” everyday. Others, like my “favorite” cousin I hadn’t seen or talked to in years. Loving Birthday wishes, shared special memories, life advice, gratitude, and of course many jokes about the joys of aging from co-workers and family.

This birthday had certainly been “different”. The day started out one way and ended completely another. Although I cannot wait to have my official party with hugs and kisses (yes, we are still having it at some point), this “different” birthday will always be remembered. It has reminded me that meaning we give, and actions we take in response to the circumstances in our lives, is a choice. “Different” doesn’t have to paralyze, frustrate or be an obstacle to a new experience. Different can be good…even great if we are open to the possibilities and willing to let go of old perceptions on what “normal” is. Even for something as simple as a 50th birthday party.

I went to bed that night feeling loved. Feeling close to family, friends and co-workers. Gratitude for my life and my many blessings had become clear again, and although nothing had changed in the world with the status of the quarantine, I had changed. My mindset about life, the real birthday “present” and what a celebration “could look like” was now different. A new “normal” had begun. As I drifted off to sleep, these thoughts filled my mind… “What a day…what a beautiful and “different” day. #Blessed.

A special and deep gratitude to God for my life, family, friends and endless blessings. To my wife Amy, daughter Megan and son Matthew who orchestrated this amazing celebration and are and will always be my everything. To my mom who raised me, loved me and gave me my work ethic, passion for cooking and love for writing. To my dad who sparked my interest in growing a garden, taking pride in my lawn and enjoying the outdoors. To my sister who rode “shotgun” with me throughout the ups and downs of childhood. Lastly, to the countless others in my life that made my 50th birthday the best and most “different” birthday ever. #LiveDifferent

Just a quick note to check in and pass along my thoughts and prayers that you and your family are safe and healthy during this challenging time in our lives and the world

I encourage you to stay “present” with your family.

To be aware of the meaning your are giving to this experience

To embrace the opportunity set before you to grow and learn

And to make a conscious choice as to who you will become as a result of this.

This too shall pass…

Birthdays are mile markers in our lives. Matthew’s recent 13th birthday proved to be no less significant and served as a reminder that part of celebrating the first things in life is appreciating the “lasts”.

We have a tradition of taking the kids out for a birthday dinner. This usually involves them choosing the restaurant and us secretly arranging some form of public spectacle of cake, candles and an entire restaurant of people singing “Happy Birthday” to them. Matthew’s upcoming 13th birthday and transition to becoming a teenager would be no different.

This year he chose the Hibachi Grill near our house. The sights, sounds, smell and entertainment always captures his attention. In fact, we all enjoy the experience especially watching the kids attempt to catch flying zucchini in their mouths while the adults have zake shot at them from 6 feet away!

As we finished dinner, the waitress surprised Matthew with a special dessert and a big firework like candle. As the restaurant sang “Happy Birthday”, I watched his expression. His joy, his excitement, his innocence and his free spirit. Even the “birthday crown” didn’t make him self conscious. He simply smiled, laughed and savored the moment …same as I did.

As we finished dinner, I said, “Hey Matt, let’s go get your last cookie.”

“What?”, he asked.

“You know, at Hannaford (grocery store in Northeast). Tomorrow you will be 13 so this is your last chance,” I said in a persuasive tone.

He smiled and reluctantly agreed. Off we went.

First some background…

When the kids were young and my daughter was still in high school, we would make grocery shopping at Hannaford a family affair. Armed with our paper “list”, now a digital app, we would divide and conquer. As the kids have grown, their efficiency and accuracy in getting the items assigned to them as well as the speed at which they do it, has consistently improved over the years. But one “ritual” always slowed down the process. A ritual I have recently come to appreciate even more and one I will never forget now that Matthew has turned 13.

You see, as soon as we would enter the store, Matthew would make a b-line for the bakery counter. On top of the glass counter sat a see through container filled with sugar cookies. Now, these were not your ordinary sugar cookies. These were “FREE and reserved for kids 12 and under only” as the posted sign asserted.

Initially, the counter was too high and he would ask “Dad, can I have a cookie?” I always replied the same way. “Of course” and I would hand him one.

Eventually, he was able to reach the container and would take a cookie by himself. Each time I would read the inscription aloud:

“Free cookies for kids 12 and under”, and would joke with him that soon, he won’t be able to have those cookies.

He would laugh and say “That’s ok. I can have them now! To bad you can’t have any!”, taunting me with the cookie.

Back to the story…

As we exited the car and walked towards the Hannfords, I was almost in slow motion. The feel and smell of the brisk winter night (Matthew was born in January), the sound of the wind blowing gently through the trees and the sight of his silhouette as he walked slightly ahead, no longer a child but not quite a man.

As we entered the store, he paused and cautiously looked around.

“I hope no one sees me doing this”, he mumbled.

Then he went straight towards the bakery counter as he had done hundreds of times before. Standing almost 5’9” inches tall he easily reached into the container and I re-read the sign aloud one last time:

“Free cookies for kids 12 and under”, I said with a sentimental tone.

The container of cookies was almost empty. In fact, only 1 cookie remained…symbolic of the end of this stage of life with his “last cookie” waiting for him.

As he reached in, memories of the last 13 years flashed through my mind. From sitting in a stroller and watching me retrieve the cookie for him to him being able to reach the counter and grab a cookie himself…and before I could say anything, he reached into the container and was about to eat the cookie.

“Matt, WAIT, hold on!”, I said. “I want a picture.”

His body expression said it all.

Really? Of what? Me eating a cookie?”, he said sarcastically with a smirk.

“Not just a cookie. Your LAST FREE cookie.” Tomorrow you will be 13…no more FREE cookies.” I said.

“OK. Hurry, before someone sees me doing this”, he grumbled.

<Click. Click. Click.>

3 pictures. I got it. Done.

He quickly gobbled down the cookie and said with a smile on his face, “Let’s Go!” and briskly walked towards the door.

That was it. The moment and “last” cookie was over.

Our lives are filled with many moments. Those that come “first” have a tendency to be celebrated, photographed and remembered like our first car, our first love, our first job, our child’s first step and even your first birthday as a teenager. These mark the beginning of the next phase of life, full of excitement for the future and what lies ahead but can easily overshadow the amazing journey that has already unfolded. Where we have been. What we have completed. Where we are today. Who we are today. Right now. This moment. Sometime “last” can be even better then first…

What “last’s” are unfolding right now that you maybe overlooking? Sometimes it is as simple as a last “FREE” cookie, a last birthday crown or a last family shopping trip that can remind us of the importance of being present and savoring our “lasts”. #CelebrateLasts

With the holidays upon us and the year coming to an end, a much overdo trip to see my mom before Christmas reminded me to be mindful of the things that drive me in life…

As an adult, I don’t get back to my childhood hometown during the Christmas season much anymore. Thankfully, this year the scheduling worked out, so my son Matthew and I decided to drive down and surprise my mom, spending a night with her in the house I grew up in.

That night at bedtime, we headed down the hallway to the bedroom I had slept in as a child. Memories flooded my mind of the years spent there and the time that had passed since I was still a “believer” during this time of year. We changed, brushed our teeth, climbed into bed and began chatting about growing up in this room and what life was like “back then”. We had never done that before, so I seized the moment to share a part of me he would have otherwise never known.

As we both began to tire, he asked me “what time are you getting up tomorrow?”

“Normal time”, I said.

“5am on a Saturday…why?!?” he exclaimed.

I paused. Thought for a second and said…”I like being up early, it gives me a chance to think and I love being here.”

He shrugged, smiled like I was crazy and said “goodnight” as he rolled over.

As I laid there, I listened to the sounds of the house and stared at the ceiling as I had done thousands of times as a child. Where had the time gone? How did I get here? Was I really almost 50 with 2 kids, a wife and a “ceiling” of my own? Thoughts of the past, present and future gently filled my mind as I drifted off to sleep.

The morning came quick. In fact, the alarm didn’t even get a chance to go off. I was already awake…4:45am. My mind seemed to be tugging at my body like a child with a parent on Christmas Day morning. An excitement seemed to be “brewing” inside me.

I got up, got dressed, and wandered down the hallway…just like I had done so many years before. The house was still quiet. I was the only one up. Walking down the hallway again continued the avalanche of childhood Christmas memories. The house. The decorations. The presents. The family members no longer with us. Even the silence. It seemed like yesterday as the memories pulled me back to a simpler time, a time where my future was ahead of me and my dreams were just beginning to take shape.

As much as nostalgia had gotten me up, it was the “thought” of coffee that further directed my steps. So into the kitchen I went, straight for the coffee machine. Eight scoops, twelve cups of water and 10 minutes later, the house was full of the aroma of coffee (old school, no Keurig here!). I poured a big cup, went into the living room and sat in my favorite spot as a child.

“Ahhhh…nothing like a real cup of coffee at moms,” I thought.

As I inhaled the aroma and sipped the coffee, I looked out the big bow window into the dark countryside. My thoughts began to wander to this past year. The ups and downs. The struggles and victories. The growth of my children, the obstacles we had overcome as a family and the strength of my marriage. God had certainly been faithful. Now with perspective looking back, it was clear it had been an amazing year, and to Matthew’s question that previous evening regarding getting up early, “this was why I was up at 5am”: To think. To reflect. To be grateful. And to “brew” my plans for the upcoming year.

Suddenly, a faint sound caught my attention. It was my mom, now 72, shuffling down the hallway.

“Good morning,” she said in a whisper.

“Morning mom,“ I answered. “Why are you up so early?” I asked.

“Coffee. I smelled coffee and I wanted to spend time with you,” she said softly.

“Sit, I’ll grab you a cup,” I said.

As the sun slowly started to rise on that 6 degree winter morning, we reminisced and talked about the past, the present and our dreams for the future. We hadn’t done that in years. A special moment I would forever be grateful for…who knows how many more Christmases we would have together.

Soon, the house was filled with the sounds and laughter of others. I was glad I had gotten up “early as usual”, not only to reflect on my life but to spend alone time with my mom. She had unknowingly given me a new perspective when I asked her “why are you up so early?” Her response of “coffee and to spend time with you” got me thinking about my intentions each day, the goals I have set and what drives me to “get out of bed”. Coffee now became my metaphor for having a clear purpose in life that directs my steps and gets me up each day. I thanked her for her inadvertent wisdom and inspiration for this year end blog post, but most of all for her love.

As you approach the new year and your future, what dreams or fears are driving you? What inspires you to get out of bed each day? What’s the purpose that is “brewing” inside you like childhood excitement on Christmas morning?

In other words, what’s your “coffee”?

You can’t go anywhere without hearing, seeing or feeling the impact information technology, or “it” has and will continue to have on our lives. From smart appliances, online shopping, home automation, and future space travel to faster cures for diseases and even autonomous cars to name a few. The recent winter storm reminded me again how important we are in this equation, and that no matter how far technology progresses…”it” as well as those in our lives will always need us.

As I drove cautiously towards the grocery store, I began to think traveling in these snowy conditions was a bad idea. Besides it being almost nightfall, the roads were covered and the snow was falling faster than ever. The plows hadn’t even been out and there were only deep snowy tracks from other cars as I drove through my neighborhood.

As I waited to pull out onto the main road, a snowplow thankfully drove by slowly, slinging the snow and slush to the side of the road. I pulled out and proceeded cautiously behind it, very aware of the road conditions.

As I came around a corner a few miles down, a car from the opposite direction hit the slush in its lane perfectly as it passed me, propelling it into the air and directly onto my windshield. “Splat!” The loud sound and force of the wet, heavy slush shook the car and mindset. The windshield was completely covered. I couldn’t see anything. For a split second my mind raced. What should I do? My foot eased off the gas, I steadied my steering and then quickly hit the windshield wipers to remove the snow that was obstructing my view while blindly maintaining my distance from the plow in front of me and staying in my lane on the road. Problem solved…at least I thought.

Suddenly an alert appeared on my dashboard:

“Some driver assist systems cannot operate: radar obstructed.”

It appeared that my car’s onboard driver assist system was not as lucky as I was. In fact, “it” was no longer able to detect its surroundings due to the driving conditions(slush and snow) even though the windshield was clear (radar is in the front of the car).

Jokingly, I thought: Now what?

Who will tell me I should “brake” or that there has been a “lane departure”?

Or automatically reduce my cruise control speed as I come upon another car or tell me that there is “traffic” in my blind spot?

Worse yet, who will help me back up if the camera doesn’t work.?

LOL. “Wait…I will! I know how to drive!”

Isn’t that what I was supposed to be doing behind the wheel? Driving alertly, being aware of my surroundings and safely navigating my car among other drivers and obstacles? And although the obstructed radar wasn’t impacting my driving at that moment, it made me think about the expectation that was slowing infiltrating my psychology by “it”:

“Someday I won’t have to pay attention when I drive. I might even be able to check out”

As scary or exciting as that sounds depending on your perspective, it will likely be the case in the future just like traveling on trains, planes and subways. Driving will become an “obsolete” skill for most as more autonomous vehicles hit the roads.

But is that what I wanted? Questions began to fill my mind:

Was I knowingly choosing the atrophy of my driving skills for something more “productive” like reading this blog post, finishing my Christmas shopping online or even sleeping?

Had I let “it” slowly and gently begin to coerce me out of a skill I once coveted as a teenager: the ability, responsibility and pleasure of driving? Wasn’t driving a metaphor and milestone for freedom, growth and independence, but now becoming a perceived future inconvenience!?!

What would my 13 year old son expect when he turns 16? Will he ever feel the pride of driving “himself” to school, using his mirrors to change lanes or successfully parallel parking? Or will he expect the car to automatically do it once he pushes the right button? Man, I sound old!

In fact , was automatic or “autopilot” becoming the standard expectation for him driving, through the brilliance of marketing and promise of “its” capabilities? Was his safety, value and efficiency no longer in his acquired knowledge of operating a motor vehicle in various driving “conditions” but rather in the ability of “it” to detect, interpret, respond and “navigate” on our behalf?

In “its” defense, I’ll admit there are some days I drive to work and wonder how I got there as my mind seems to wander from the task at hand. This is an even more dangerous form of autopilot as neither I nor “it” is fully in control yet. In this use case, “it” would make travel safer when I am preoccupied behind the wheel.

So is that the answer? Let “it” be our safety valve for when we inevitably “checkout” in routine activities that once captivated and required our attention like driving? The key will be where do we draw the line?

Could an “autopilot mindset” with driving, begin to set a mental expectation for how we “drive” other areas of life and had this too already began?

Was I “steering” discussions with my kids and wife when we were together in a car, at an event or at home?

Was I “pumping the brakes” when my actions were negatively impacting my health and finances?

Was I looking “out the windshield” towards an intentional future and but also learning from past mistakes in the “rear view mirror”?

Or was I slowly being desensitized to the overwhelming pace of change around me, disengaging from my responsibilities “behind the wheel” and waiting for “it” to alert me that my marriage was in trouble, health was at risk or child needed me so that I could mindlessly browse the web, binge on Netflix or shop online? Could “it’s” allure of autopilot in one area of life such as driving be setting a mental precedent and mislead me into “falling asleep at the wheel of life”?”

I don’t have any answers. Only more questions. What I do know is it is different for everyone and that this post isn’t about debating the many benefits that are likely when “it” (technology) gives us more time to do other things instead of driving. Rather, this post is get your to think about whether you are consciously choosing the role you let technology play in your life and how that one decision can shape your thoughts and expectations in how you “drive” other areas of your life like your health, your family, your career and service to others. The real question will be what level of awareness and accountability do you want versus that delegated to technology, whether steering your car in a snow storm or driving your life towards your dreams.

The error message continued for several more miles until I reached safely home to my family where I got out and cleared all visible slush and snow from the front of the car. The driver assistance system was soon operating properly.

For now, “it” still needed me, but more importantly was the realization that so did my family.

This past weekend my daughter Megan wrapped up her 2019 volleyball season as a sophomore at Merrimack College. For her, this season was an opportunity to finally play the sport she loves, after last year’s season ending injury that limited her play and required surgery. For the women’s volleyball program, this season represented an exciting opportunity and transition from an NCAA Division 2 Program to an NCAA Division 1 Program. Their slogan: “We Are ONE”.

As with any opportunity or transition, challenge is likely. This season was no different, with many ups and downs. First, Megan suffered a concussion two days before the season opener and was out the first 3 weeks, but thankfully, she was injury free for the remainder of the season. For the team, competing at the D1 level was even tougher than expected including several untimely injuries that further impacted their season. In the end, they fought hard every game but lost all of their divisional games…a season some might remember as “0-16”.

I remember my winless season when my high school basketball team went 0-18. We were a young team with a new coach and we just couldn’t get a win that year despite our hard work. As I sat and watched Megan’s final game of the season come to an end, there were tears, laughter, hugs and goodbyes…from both players and parents. The realization had sunk in…”this opportunity and moment in their lives was over”. More specifically, this was the last time they would all play as ONE with the 4 departing seniors.

As I took that “last” picture, I couldn’t help but think “this is how I will remember them and their season.” With big smiles, arms wrapped around each other and together as ONE. Not as a 0-16 statistic, but rather a team that genuinely cared about each other, wanted to do well and gave their best every game.

They had grown during this challenging season…as players, as teammates, and young women even though their record didn’t show it. They were stronger physically and emotionally, and had learned what it meant to compete at the D1 level as ONE.

With 30+ years of perspective on my own 0-18 season, their season again reminded me of 10 things I learned many years ago about the importance of working together as ONE in athletics, but also in life.

10 Things to Become ONE

1. Loss happens…Move on. Athletic seasons (and life) are full of ups and downs, keeping going. #MoveOn
2. It starts in the mirror…no excuses. Own your results and focus on what YOU can control. #OwnIt
3. Mindset matters… the choice is yours. The meaning we give to any challenge and the mindset we choose can help or hinder us from seeing the possibilities right in front of us. #Mindset
4. Failure leads to success… learn from it. Don’t miss the wisdom in the lesson by being distracted by the score or what others says. #Learn
5. One season does not define a person or team…choose your character. How you treat yourself and others in light of your circumstances is what ultimately matters. #Character
6. No one has all the answers… be humble. Acknowledging our own development needs opens the door to get help and give help to those in need. #Humility
7. Nothing happens overnight… work hard. Be the hardest worker in the room and you’ll never regret the results, regardless of the scoreboard. #Commitment
8. A scoreboard can’t measure everything … take pride in all of your efforts. You represent the tradition of those that came before you, have influence over those that are joining you, and will leave your own unique mark on the program. #Pride
9. Winning is great, but it isn’t everything. Sometimes our greatest wins in life, is the perspective we get from the losses we endure. #Perspective
10. Stronger together…stay ONE. Unconditional love and respect for each other during the ups and downs is the real secret to sports and life. #WeAreOne

Being ONE means different things to different people and although they weren’t number ONE in their division this year, they came together as ONE, fought as ONE and finished as ONE.

Learning to be ONE as a team is the foundation of athletics…and even for life. #GoWarriors

What about you? What does ONE mean to you?

As we approach the Thanksgiving holiday in the United States this coming week, a recent trip to Pittsburgh, Pennsylvania reinforced the importance of being thankful in my life…

As a kid, I remember seeing writing and drawings on public walls, buildings, rail cars, barns, water towers, bridges… even in bathroom stalls! This imagery, artistic lettering, interesting shapes and sometimes brilliant colors, I came to learn was called “graffiti”, a form of artistic expression usually done without permission but intentionally placed within public view as a “message” to the world.

Some graffiti invokes emotions of love, peace and friendship while others suggest fear, hate and death in its messaging and visualization. Subjective by nature and at the sole discretion of a usually “unknown” artist, there was sometimes mystery in the method used to access the high or remote spot the “message” was placed. This method of communication existed in the world long before blogs like this and the internet (No, the internet didn’t always exist!); and has a unique way of capturing our hearts and minds even today.

Recently while visiting Pittsburgh to see my daughter play volleyball, I invited Steve, one of the other dads that made the trip from Massachusetts, to join me in my 6am morning walk before the games began that day. Plus, as a Steelers fan, I’ll use any excuse to take people around the city and to the stadium while I am there. #GoBlackAndYellow

He agreed, so we met in the hotel lobby at 5:45am. It was still dark. The city hadn’t even woken up yet. It was calm and surprisingly quiet.We stepped onto the street and headed for the walking path near the David L. Lawrence Convention Center along the Allegheny River towards Heinz Field and snapped a picture. As we walked, we began talking about our daughter’s volleyball journey, our families, our faith, our lives, and the impact the meaning we give to life’s ups and downs has on our mindset. Most of all, we talked about how blessed we were and how grateful we felt to be alive.

As we crossed one of the many yellow bridges (6th street bridge in this case), we could see lightening coming from an amazing cloud formation in the distance near Heinz Field and stopped to immerse ourselves in the moment. Then proceeded to West General Robinson Street to walk by several Steelers landmarks. On our way back, I adjusted the route to walk through Point State Park to see the huge water foundation and the incredible view of Heinz Field from across the river.

As the sun began to rise, a beautiful pink color illuminated the sky highlighting the water and bridges as we headed back. We paused in amazement, captivated by its color, and beauty…taking a picture as it slowly faded.

It had been a great morning of discussion, connection and sightseeing but what would come next was unexpected and would prove to be symbolic of the day, our trip and the bond we built that morning together. As we walked under the final bridge towards the hotel, we began to see graffiti. Mostly jagged shapes and dark colors with no obvious meaning, then suddenly one caught our attention. It was written in black spray paint on a cracked pillar near an old dirty drain. No bright colors or fancy lettering. Just a neatly handwritten message with a simple yet profound statement. A reminder for all of us and a suggestion for how to live our lives:

“10 Minutes of Gratitude a Day”

We stopped and stared in silence. Then looked at each other, smiled and laughed out loud (LOL). We were both thinking the same thing! After a morning of getting to know each other and sharing our lives, this seemed too coincidental. We acknowledged that although our faith interpretation may be different (he’s Jewish , I am Catholic) we agreed that a “higher power” was at work that morning, bringing us together on a universal truth: daily gratitude is important. We had our picture taken in front of the “message” to capture the moment and reinforce the importance of gratitude in our own lives as well as in the lives of those we would share this story with.

I’ve returned to this spot several times since that day, sharing it with my wife and family, and in my blog. And although I do not condone graffiti without permission, I am grateful for this encounter and have even added it to the list of “sightseeing” spots whenever I visit Pittsburgh now. This experience made me more aware than ever of the importance, power and perspective daily gratitude can bring to my life.

In fact, gratitude, like graffiti, can be “found” anytime, anywhere, or anyplace if we seek it. It is personal and subjective, and can sometimes be misunderstood, illusive or overlooked. Its “message” can even be found where we least expect it….like along a river, under a bridge, near an old, rusty drain with a new friend…

How about you? Where have you found gratitude when you least expected it?

Happy Thanksgiving!

The weather was perfect for a Fall weekend in the Northeast. Crisp. Calm. Blue sky. Partly sunny. Just perfect.

As I set out for my afternoon run, I made sure I was more colorful than the changing landscape around me….bright orange shirt and light blue shorts. It wasn’t a fashion statement, but more a safety precaution to ensure that drivers could see me as I ran along the side of a country road.

Living in a rural area, traffic was expected to be light except for a 1/2 mile stretch where the shoulder is narrow and cars travel at 55 mph. This section always creates a heightened sense of awareness and anxiety for me, but over the years I’ve gotten use to it.

As I made the left turn onto the busier part of the route, the sun was bright and the upcoming blind corner suddenly revealed a vehicle coming my way. At first, I wasn’t too concerned, as traffic was expected. But as the vehicle got closer, it’s trajectory began to change…drifting gradually towards the side of the road, in my direction. As I continued forward, I felt paralyzed, helpless, and unsure what to do. Slowly, its tires pierced the white line onto the shoulder where I was and I could hear the gravel being struck. I quickly moved further off the shoulder into the ditch of tall grass, as the car seemed to accelerate in my direction. I was out of time and space…the car was upon me.

Time seemed to freeze as I looked into the passenger window. I could see the driver, what they were doing, the color of their eyes and hair, their expression and an approximate age. Suddenly, the driver saw me, realized the imminent danger and jerked the wheel sharply, returning to their lane. Disaster averted. Thank God.

It started and ended in a blink of an eye. In fact, it happened so fast I didn’t have “time for my life to flash in front of my eyes” or react much at all. I was numb. I had no anger. No fear. Nothing. All I felt was a sense of relief and gratitude that both the driver and I were safe, and that I couldn’t wait to get home and see my family to share this experience.

As a sat later, recalling and retelling the story, I purposely excluded the age, sex, make and model of the vehicle , and what the driver was doing because none of that was the real point. In fact, it wasn’t about one specific person, place, type or thing. It’s simply about the risk of distracted driving…whatever the cause. Distracted driving injures almost 400,000 a year and is to blame for at least 8% of fatal car accidents. It comes in many “shapes and sizes” performed by many different demographics. In the end, all distracted driving is dangerous and applies to everyone. It may include eating, drinking beverages, talking on the phone, reading, texting, applying makeup, watching videos, taking pictures or changing music as a few examples. All of these activities can distract us just long enough to miss seeing a child waiting for a school bus, an animal crossing the street or in my case, a runner along the side the road.

The reality is, that driver could have been me. That’s right, I am embarrassed to admit that I too am guilty of distracted driving at times. I won’t go into the details but admit this experience has forced me to look at my own driving behavior and the risks distracted driving poses to myself, my family and others. It also prompted me share this story to raise awareness that we all must “wait” and avoid any distracting behavior that could cause harm to ourselves and others while driving.

A highway sign I later saw stated it perfectly:

“Whatever it is…It can wait.”

Join me in “waiting”.

I love to fish. Period.

My grandfather cultivated this love of mine when I was a child, taking me fishing often in lakes, ponds and streams (or cricks like we call them). We would fish in the morning and at night, in rain or shine. Summer or winter. It didn’t matter. I was and still am always excited to go fishing. I love it.

As fisherman, we all have our favorite “spots”. Places we love to go where we believe a trophy size fish awaits. Some people like deep, still water near a creek bed with overhanging branches where monster brook and brown trout await. Others like the ocean and large lakes where you need 2 guys to pull in the catch.

For me, it’s always been this incredible pond on a farm in my hometown where my best friend Gary from high school lived. We spent many a summer weekend fishing there together. At that time, his family still owned the property. Bass, pickerel, bluegill, sunfish, crappie, rock bass…you name it, we caught it in that pond. In fact the largest pickerel I ever caught in my life, 26 inches, was taken from that little pond. So many memories. So many fish “stories”. Even today, decades after the property had been sold, I get excited and optimistic that the “big one” still awaits. So much of who I am and what I value in life can be linked to that pond, fishing and those I shared it with. Patience. Optimism. Persistence. Gratitude. Nature. Beauty. Peace. Humility.

Unfortunately, the older I got, the less time I had/made for fishing. And when my grand father passed away and Gary’s family sold the property, fishing almost vanished from my life . Even when my kids were born, it never seemed to be a priority to take them fishing.

But this wouldn’t be the end of the fishing “story”.

Now almost 30 years later, I reconnected with Gary and his dad Larry. We came to learn that the current owners of the property were seasonally renting the beautiful log cabin they had built on the property and it was available. Staying there overnight had become a life long obsession of mine and now the opportunity had come.

So when on the off chance I learned that the beautiful logo cabin that majestically stood watch over the pond was being rented, I jumped at the chance. I contacted the owner and made a reservation. #DreamComeTrue

The weather forecast for that weekend was spotty at best. On the water, even a pond this size in the country, you never know. So we picked our bags, fishing poles and off we went. Walking into the cabin for the first time was surreal. For 25+ years I had dreamed of seeing the inside of the cabin. Now having the chance to go inside and stay brought overwhelming joy!

We quickly unpacked the car and headed for the pond to “catch dinner”. (We don’t keep any fish, but you gotta have goals!) As usual, the fish were biting….all sizes and kinds. Laughter, excitement, frustration and excuses filled the air. I felt like I was 10 years old again.

Later that night Gary and his dad Larry joined us for dinner. Larry, another avid fisherman, loved the sport as much as I do. His talent for catching fish is captured here. Enough said. LOL

After dinner, we watched the sunset, as a large snapping turtle wandered up the lawn searching for a place to lay her eggs. Nearby a mother deer frolicked with her fawns as a flock of turkey silently strutted across the meadow while geese paddled around the pond. We even had a full moon that night and a clear sky, enabling us to take the kids outside to see what the constellations really look like. It was the perfect end to a perfect day.

The weather the next morning wasn’t great. Slow steady rain blanketed the countryside with no signs of letting up. Disappointment laid heavy in the air, not just the fog.

“Now what”?, Matthew asked anxiously.

“What do you mean?” I replied.

“It’s raining. How can we fish?” he asked.

“So”, I said with a grin.

“Did you bring us rain jackets?”, he asked.

“No, but I have a better idea,” chuckling under my breath. “I’ll be right back.”

Moments later, I returned.

“Is that a garbage bag?” Matthew asked.

“Yup, and your new raincoat”, I exclaimed as I searched through the nearby draw for scissors.

Matthew is a pretty easy going kid, but even he was skeptical that this would work. But several tries later, 3 rain jackets were made to order!

As we put on our new “rain jackets” and headed out the door, Larry met us outside to join our mission.

“What the hell are you wearing?”

“Garbage bags,” Matthew exclaimed.

Larry paused. Looked away and just shook his headed, his signature move. We all burst out laughing. Then a quick picture to capture this moment and down to the pond we went.

The rain was steady and even intensified on and off, but the fish were biting and it was incredible. In fact, I didn’t even have time to fish. I just kept taking the fish off as they reeled them in and re-baiting the hooks.

As the kids sat their fishing, soaked and smiling, filled with excitement even in the pouring rain, I could hear my grandfather looking down from heaven smiling and saying “Well, they are hooked now”.

It’s moments like this that either make you love fishing for the rest of your life or hate it. To be sure this was love, I said:

“Hey, guys. The next time you look outside and it’s raining, what are you going to think?”

Almost in unison they replied “that’s it’s a good day to go fishing.”

They were right. It really was a good day..especially for fishing. Mission Accomplished.

As we finished for the day and headed towards the cabin, I reflected on how a dreary, wet morning with no rain jackets lead to a new perspective on what a “good day” can be; and how the “rain” in our lives can actually lead to “love” with a little bit of creativity and some trash bags.

Go fishing. Take the kids. Get wet. Bring trash bags. 🙂

For most of us in the northeast, this week marks the end of summer and the beginning of the new school year.

As we waited for the bus with Matthew on this beautiful morning, we talked, laughed, and reminisced about the amazing summer we had and the time we spent together. In fact, it was the first year that we almost forgot to get a picture of him waiting outside. You see we were so immersed in this precious moment in our lives, a moment when Matthew is still home with us and beginning 7th grade. (Our daughter Megan is a sophomore at college) His energy, excitement and optimism for what lies ahead was inspiring, intoxicating and down right incredible. Suddenly I realized the bus was about to come and said to my wife “Let’s make sure we get a picture”.

It was in that moment that I realized that the “real moment” had already been captured. Not digitally, but emotionally in our hearts, in our minds and in our souls…forever. How many times had I taken the picture each year of him, only to have missed the moment. In the craziness of our lives and “capturing” everything in social media, we may succeed in capturing the picture, but we may miss what really matters…living in the moment.