A Beacon of Light

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  • Childhood Memories

    “What one loves
    in childhood
    stays in their heart
    forever.” 
    Mary Jo Putney

    A local author, Ann Lamott, has created a new website to encourage writers to write. She sends out writing prompts for those who need a bit of guidance to get them started. Normally, I’m not in need of such urging. I encounter ideas for my blog posts pretty much every day. Today, however, I’m responding to the prompt I received from Ann yesterday, as it brought back vivid memories of my childhood. The prompt was: Describe a place from your childhood that holds significant memories for you.

    It didn’t take much thought for me to identify that place for me. It was a house in the Noe Valley area of San Francisco — the home of my mother’s uncle and aunt. I knew them as Uncle P.D. (for Patrick Daniel) and Auntie Mary. P.D. was my maternal grandmother’s brother. Their home on 26th Street was the venue for many large family gatherings.

    My first memory of this house is of sitting at the kitchen table enjoying my Auntie Mary’s Irish soda bread and tea. This was always a special time, although P.D. was often disappointed that I would never join him for a shot or two of Irish whiskey.

    Many larger family gatherings were held at this home. In the hours before dinner, the women would gather in the kitchen, while the men would hang out on the small back porch, which was well-stocked with a variety of adult beverages. A number of children, including my siblings and cousins, would move around from what I remember as the TV room, adjacent to the dining room, to the back yard, which featured a strip of grass bordered on three sides by flowering plants. These were special times which enabled me to enjoy the company of my cousins Kathleen, Maureen, and Pat Twomey, John and Debbie Young, Pat, John, and Maria Healy, and the Kelly family — Marie, Lori, Jim, Nancy, Dan, and Theresa. The house wasn’t big, but there was always enough room for everyone.

    After dinner, we would gather in the living room/dining room area for a variety of traditional family activities. There would be a bit of group singing of a few Irish songs, then Uncle P.D. would recite the poem “I’m the Daddy of a Nun,” much to everyone’s delight. My Uncle Dan Healy, my Godfather, would play his bagpipes for a while, then my father would sing “Danny Boy.” After that, the women would move the large table out of the way so that they could do some Irish dancing on the hardwood floor in the dining room. That was always a treat to watch.

    P.D. and Mary were the epitome of hospitality. Everyone knew that they were welcome in P.D. and Mary’s home any time of day or night. It was in this home, more so than anywhere else, that I experienced the love and acceptance offered by my extended family. Definitely a source of gratitude in my life.

  • Brendan’s Gift

    “A plant is
    the most patient
    and forgiving teacher.” 
    Srikumar Rao

    When I first met Kathy back in August 1984, to welcome me to my new job at Saint Lawrence Parish in Santa Clara, she gave me a beautiful plant for my office. It was a nice addition to what was otherwise a fairly bland workspace. For the first few months, the plant was situated on my desk. I enjoyed it immensely, as it was a constant reminder of Kathy’s gracious hospitality. Sadly, it struggled to survive, as there was insufficient sunlight in the room. My secretary at that time recommended that we move the plant into her office, adjacent to mine. Two of her four walls were floor-to-ceiling glass, one with a western exposure. The afternoon sun in that location was plentiful. The plant thrived for ten years.

    When my responsibilities at Saint Lawrence changed in 1994, I moved out of that office and into one of the classrooms of the parish high school where I worked for the next 21 years. I brought the plant with me. For a while, it seemed to be doing well in its new environment, but as time went on, it began to show signs of distress. Hoping to give it new life, I brought the plant home. The lack of sufficient sunlight there, combined with my own lack of attentiveness, resulted in the plant experiencing a slow death. Nurturing plants was definitely not a gift with which I was blessed.

    A little more than a year ago, our youngest son, Brendan, asked if it might be possible for him to move back home for a while. He had been living in a rental house in Santa Clara with two friends, but the landlord informed them that the rent would be increasing sharply, so all three sought alternative living situations. Kathy and I were happy to welcome Brendan back into our home.

    Kathy and I enjoy and appreciate Brendan’s presence. One of the perks of having him living here is that we get to enjoy the beauty of the various plants Brendan is growing in and around our home. Some are in his room, while others are strategically placed in the living room, the dining room, the guest bathroom, our front patio, and in various spots around the perimeter of our home. He meticulously cares for these plants and, unlike me, seems to know exactly what each type of plant needs to flourish. Our home environment is much improved thanks to Brendan’s gift of growing plants.

    As I’ve mentioned so many times previously in my writing, I am tremendously grateful for this sacred space we call home. We’ve lived here for almost 38 years. This residence, and the community in which it is located, has served us well. The addition of Brendan’s plants, and Brendan’s presence himself, has created an even more welcoming, nurturing environment for Kathy and me to live… and thrive.

    American horticulturist, Liberty Hyde Bailey, pointed out, “A garden requires patient labor and attention. Plants to not grow merely to satisfy ambitions or to fulfill good intentions. They thrive because someone expended effort on them.” This is exactly what Brendan has done.

    More than two thousand years ago, the Roman philosopher, Marcus Tullius Cicero, stated, “If you have a garden and a library, you have everything you need.” Gratefully, my home has been blessed with both.

  • Genuine Kindness

    “Every saint has a past
    and every sinner
    has a future.” 
    Oscar Wilde

    Stephanie’s story was heartbreaking. She spoke of the violence in her home during her formative years. She described the dangers of the constant gang activity in the neighborhood in which her family home was located, which included the death of her younger brother. She shared her feelings of hopelessness for a better future for herself, and later for her children. She disclosed some of the desperate measures she had taken in an attempt to survive in her East Los Angeles environment. Then her tone changed, significantly, as she recounted her experience at Homeboy Industries, the largest and most successful gang intervention program in the world.

    I had the pleasure and privilege of taking a tour of the Homeboy facility last Wednesday. I was overwhelmed with the warm hospitality and genuine kindness offered by dozens of people I met, many of whom were graduates of the Homeboy program. My tour guide was Stephanie.   

    Stephanie’s story is not unusual. Those who work with the clients at Homeboy have heard thousands of similar stories from women and men with a desire and commitment to improve their lives. The mission of Homeboy Industries is to provide hope, training, and support to formerly gang-involved and previously incarcerated men and women, allowing them to redirect their lives and become contributing members of the community.

    Homeboy Industries provides an 18-month reentry program which is offered to 400 men and women each year. Founded by Father Greg Boyle, S.J. in 1988, the organization’s motto is “Nothing stops a bullet like a job.” Despite the odds, Fr. Greg has earned the trust and respect of rival gangs in the Los Angeles area. His organization offers gang members a viable alternative to the hopelessness of the gang lifestyle. Homeboy services include case management, legal assistance, education, mental health services, substance abuse and anger management classes, parenting workshops, tattoo removal, and much more. 

    Another catch phrase at Homeboy Industries is “Jobs, not Jail.” Upon completion of the 18-month reentry program, a variety of job opportunities are made available to graduates including, but not limited to, the Homeboy Bakery, the Homegirl Café, Homeboy Silkscreening, Homegirl Catering, Homeboy Electronics Recycling, the Homeboy Farmers Market, and https://shophomeboy.com/.

    Those with an affiliation with gangs are not the only individuals struggling to cope with the myriad challenges of living in the world today. As we go about our daily routines, we may find ourselves standing next to someone who is doing their best not to fall apart. It may be a family member, a coworker, a neighbor, an employee in a store or restaurant, or another customer sitting in a local coffee shop. We just never know, so it’s imperative that whatever we do each day, we do it with kindness in our heart. The kindness we offer someone might be just what they need to keep it all together for one more day.

    As I walked through the various areas of the Homeboy Industries facility, I encountered nothing but kindness and gratitude every step of the way. I felt more welcome by the homeboys and homegirls there than I have ever felt at a local parish church. This incredible experience motivates me to share a message penned by author Lisa Currie, who wrote, “You may not always see the results of your kindness, but every bit of positive energy you contribute to the world makes it a better place for us all.”  

  • Mother’s Day

    “If I know what love is,
    it is because of you.” 
    Hermann Hesse

    In our home this morning, we will celebrate Mother’s Day. Our three boys and their families will be here for a feast of breakfast burritos from La Victoria Taqueria in San José. There will be a dozen of us altogether. I’m fairly certain that no one will walk away hungry.

    Kathy most certainly deserves to be recognized and appreciated on Mother’s Day. She has been, and continues to be, an amazing mother to our three boys. She is also a loving, nurturing grandma (or “Mama”) to our five grandchildren. The love Kathy has and shares with our sons and grandkids is reflective of the unconditional love God has for us. 

    For me, today has a bit of a different focus. I’m grateful that Kathy has embraced her role as “Mom” and “Mama” to the next two generations, but she is not MY mother. Even though my mother has been gone for more than a year now, I am overwhelmed with gratitude for everything she did for me throughout my lifetime. Mom’s love, too, was unconditional. There were a number of times when she might have been disappointed by something I said, did, or failed to do, yet she never wavered in her love for me. Her love was not dependent upon my actions. It was just there — always. A sacramental experience, for sure.

    The way Mom loved my siblings and me is a perfect example of my favorite definition of “love,” which is: “to seek the highest good for the other person.” Mom committed herself to doing this until the day she died. She was kind, generous, understanding, supportive, and courageous. She taught me how to be aware of the needs of others. She taught me how to treat people with respect and dignity. She taught me the importance of punctuality, self-reliance, honesty, hard work, and self-care. She taught me how to express myself clearly in both written and spoken forms. When it comes right down to it, Mom was not only my first teacher, but also my best.

    So as we gather today as a family to celebrate Kathy’s ministry of motherhood, I do so with fond, grateful memories of my own Mom, as well. 

  • Life is Good

    “My favorite place
    to vacation
    is anyplace
    by the ocean.” 
    Nina Arianda

    It’s been a brief getaway, and now it’s ending. I’m sitting at a small table in Los Angeles International Airport waiting to board my flight back to San José. The duration of this visit was ideal — four days. Any shorter would have been insufficient. Anything longer would have been too much. I’m looking forward to getting home, celebrating Mother’s Day, and returning to my daily routine.

    My brother, Tom, was a gracious host. I was able to stay in a guest room at Loyola-Marymount University, where Tom lives and works. His fellow Jesuits were equally hospitable, each welcoming me warmly and engaging in casual conversation at various times. The weather could have been better. It’s been cooler than usual for May in LA, with a brisk wind that made it feel even colder, but it was good weather for walking — and we did a lot of walking.

    I got to see much of the Los Angeles metro area these past few days, including Santa Monica Pier, Will Rogers State Park, Homeboy Industries (with lunch at the Homegirl Café), Union Station, and the Los Angeles Cathedral in downtown LA. Tom and I also enjoyed a pleasant walk along the promenade along Hermosa Beach, about ten miles south of the LMU campus. The white sand and ocean air made for a pleasant experience.

    From the Jesuit Community residence at Loyola-Marymount, it’s possible to see the Pacific Ocean, in the general direction of Santa Monica. While the visibility wasn’t ideal this week, just being near the ocean was enough to nourish my soul. Today, as I prepare to fly home, I feel both incredibly relaxed and energized. Oh,… and yes, grateful.

    As summer approaches, I am hoping to get to the water, in both Santa Cruz and San Francisco, on a more regular basis. There’s definitely something special about time spent near the ocean.

    On a final note,… I was reminded, yet again, that it is a small world. Sitting here at LAX I met a young woman who attended Holy Family School in San José, Presentation High School (2011), Loyola-Marymount University, and Santa Clara University Law School. Not surprisingly, we knew several people in common. She’s flying home to the South Bay for Mother’s Day.

    Life is good. 

  • Wanna Get Away?

    “One’s destination
    is never a place,
    but a new way
    of seeing things.” 
    Henry Miller

    The Southwest Airlines “Wanna get away?” marketing campaign, which ran from 1998 to 2008, was brilliant. A woman in an airport had a problem with her contact lens, so she blindly stumbled into the rest room to use the mirror to help her resolve the situation. Only then did she realize that she was in the men’s restroom. “Wanna get away?”

    A military leader, during a crisis situation, was required to divulge his secret passcode to his colleagues to prevent a global disaster. With reservation, and a bit of embarrassment, he spelled out “ihatemyjob1.” One of his subordinates, shocked by what he had just heard, looked at officer and verified the password. “I hate my job one?” [Pause] “Wanna get away?” 

    A number of different scenarios were used to create the same type of awkward dilemma, causing the main characters to wish they could get away… immediately.  The commercials were quite entertaining, and, apparently, very effective.

    I am not currently experiencing an awkward dilemma. I’m not trying to escape from anyone or anything. There is no particular place I need to be this week, and nothing urgent that I need to do, but I have the opportunity to get away for a few days. So this morning, I’ll hop on a Southwest flight to Los Angeles for a visit with my brother, Tom, and a few days of rest and relaxation. Some might think it strange that I would be flying solo on this adventure, but as Thomas Jefferson once said, “I think one travels more usefully when they travel alone, because they reflect more.”

    There are times when taking a short vacation is a form of self-care, too. This is one of those times. I’m convinced that self-care is not selfish. Rather, it is an essential component of our overall physical and mental well-being. In addition to spending time with my brother, these few days away will give me the opportunity to do some reading, walking, a bit of thinking, and, if inspired to do so, some writing. I do not intend for it to be a working vacation. I’m simply giving myself the gift of a few days away from the responsibilities of daily life and the opportunity to spend some time with Tom. I have no set agenda for these few days. This, in itself, is a gift.

    I’ll be in the air and well on my way before 8:00 this morning. The change of scenery will be nice, as will the weather this week in Southern California. When I arrive, I’ll catch an Uber ride to Loyola-Marymount University, where Tom lives and works. Then I’ll be ready to take a deep breath of the ocean air and make the most of my time in Los Angeles.

    Wanna get away? I sure do.

  • New Bookstore

    “A town isn’t a town
    without a bookstore.” 
    Neil Gaiman

    The Town of Los Gatos, California may once again legitimately call itself, by Neil Gaiman’s definition, a town. After years of small, independent bookstores in Los Gatos closing, succumbing to the popularity and convenience of giant online booksellers, the doors have opened to a new, locally-owned, independent bookstore in the charming downtown area. Beyond Text Bookstore celebrates its grand opening today from 10 AM to 6 PM.  

    I spoke with Tanya, the owner, yesterday. To say that she is excited about today’s event would be an understatement. For Tanya, opening a brick and mortar bookstore is a dream come true. Real books in a real bookstore for real readers to peruse, and hopefully purchase. The store is small, but the selection is impressive. Of course, I might be a bit biased. My newest book, Through the Lens of Gratitude, is one of the many books available at Beyond Text.

    I am quite pleased with the placement of my book in the store. Through the Lens… shares a shelf with James Clear’s New York Times bestseller Atomic Habits. And it sits on the shelf directly above another New York Times bestseller, How to Know a Person, by David Brooks. Copies of both of these books have been in the “to be read” collection on my home office desk for quite some time. I have no illusions that my book will become a New York Times bestseller, but it’s nice to know that I’m in good company at Beyond Text Bookstore.

    How important is a local bookstore? British author, David Almond, wrote, “A good bookshop is not just about selling books from shelves, but reaching out into the world and making a difference.” This is precisely what Tanya hopes to accomplish through her new venture at Beyond Text.

    Robert Frost once said, “The first thing I do in any town I come to is ask if it has a bookstore.” The legendary poet would be pleased to know that, once again, the answer in Los Gatos is “Yes!”

    Beyond Text Bookstore is located at 318 N. Santa Cruz Avenue in downtown Los Gatos. The business is open Tuesdays through Sundays from 10 AM to 6 PM, and closed on Mondays. If you live in the South Bay, or if you’ll be visiting the Santa Clara Valley in the near future, I invite and encourage you to visit downtown Los Gatos. Stop by the bookstore, say hello to Tanya, peruse the selection of books, then enjoy breakfast, lunch, or dinner at one of the many local eateries. The Town of Los Gatos has one of the most appealing downtowns in the greater San Francisco Bay Area. And now, once again, it has a bookstore!

  • Sad to See

    “Expectation
    is the root
    of all heartache.”
    William Shakespeare

    In June of 1979, I graduated from Santa Clara University and moved into a small, two-bedroom house on Lincoln Street in Santa Clara. It was yet another one of those undeserved gifts with which I’ve been blessed in my life. The owner, Mr. Edwin Moore, was the retired superintendent of the Santa Clara Mission Cemetery, the entrance to which was just two doors down from the front door of the residence. Mr. Moore lived in Santa Cruz, but he owned fourteen houses in all. He also had fourteen grandchildren. Upon his death, each grandchild would inherit a house. I lived in the home at 431 Lincoln Street for seven years.

    The market-rate rent for the house at that time was about $750/month. Mr. Moore didn’t need the money. He just wanted to be certain that his tenants would take good care of the property. He informed me that the rent I would pay would be only $200/month, but asked that I take good care of the lawns (front and back) and the garden. I assured him that the landscaping would be well cared for. With the rent being so low, I hired a professional gardener to keep everything green and thriving. The property always looked incredibly nourished and well-kept. I used to enjoy coming home at the end of the day, sitting in the captain’s chair on the front porch, and watering the lawn. It was a time of solitude in otherwise hectic days.

    I was out for a walk on Wednesday. I walked from our home to Santa Clara University, a fairly straight shot down Saratoga Avenue. When I got to Lincoln Street, I took a quick detour to check out the old house. All I can say is that Mr. Moore would be disappointed with the way it looks today.

    The grandson who inherited 431 Lincoln Street eventually sold the property. I don’t know if the occupant today is a renter or owner. What I do know, as is evident in the photo above, is that keeping the outside of the property looking good is not a priority for them. To see the house in this condition generated a feeling of melancholy in me. I know Mr. Moore, who passed away back in the early ‘80s, no longer owns the home. Nor does his grandson. Still, I know how much pride he took in the appearance of the property. The grass in front of 431 Lincoln, which had been lush, thick, and brilliant green, is now overrun with weeds. Weeds have also taken over the narrow strip of garden along the front and side of the house, areas which used to be home to a variety of plants and vegetables.

    I should have no expectations that the current owner or renter should care for the property the way Mr. Moore would have liked — and, yet, I do. I wish I could tell the responsible party about the history of the house (it was originally located on Market Street where Santa Clara University’s high-rise dormitory, Swig Hall, now stands.) I wish I could tell them about Mr. Moore, about his kindness and generosity, and about how much it meant to him that the landscaping of the property be well-maintained. I wish I could convince them that it’s not too late for this house to regain the charm it once had in the neighborhood.

    Expectations? Shakespeare was right. As the writer, Richard Preston, wrote, “The ideal and the reality don’t always match up.”

  • Core Values

    “Your core values are
    the deeply-held beliefs
    that authentically describe
    your soul.” 
    John C. Maxwell

    I’ve often been asked if I write a blog post and then find an image to support it, or if I select an image and then write a blog post. My answer is always the same. “Yes!” I have done both. Today’s blog post is based on this image I came across yesterday. I’d never seen it before, but it is one to which I can easily relate.

    Those who know me, or who have followed my writing, are well aware of my focus on gratitude. Two months ago, I published my fifth book, A Focus on Gratitude. 

    Hopefully, my passion for gratitude is clearly evident, not only in the things I write, but in how I live my life. It hasn’t always been this way. For much of my life, I took people and things for granted. For many years, I had convinced myself that my accomplishments were my own — achievements for which I could take full credit. Fortunately, I was able to outgrow this self-centered mindset and realize that everything I’ve accomplished in my lifetime has depended upon many other individuals, without whom such success would never have been possible.

    Yes, I am grateful. I grew up in a loving, nurturing family. I received an excellent education at every level. Tremendous opportunities became available to me, not because of my stellar qualifications or accomplishments, but out of the genuine kindness of others. I met and married a woman who is my friend, soulmate, and confidant. We were blessed with three sons who, despite the predictable challenges of adolescence, have grown up to be responsible, contributing members of society. And the icing on the cake has been the opportunity to know and love our five grandchildren. As I said, I have much for which to be grateful.

    It’s been said that what we focus on is what we see. When we focus on the negativity in the world, it is clearly evident to us. When we choose to focus on the good in the world, it’s amazing how much good we are able to recognize around us day to day. This is why, for me, a focus on gratitude is critical to my overall well-being. This is also why I choose to see the world today Through the Lens of Gratitude.

    Passion? That’s a strong word, yet I don’t hesitate to use it to refer to my motivation to write and speak about gratitude. I want to share the gratitude I experience with others. I want to encourage others to recognize the many blessings in their own lives for which they can be grateful. Most of all, I want to motivate people to express their gratitude to others, especially to those responsible for those blessings in their lives. As American novelist, Gertrude Stein, wrote, “Silent gratitude isn’t much use to anyone.”    

  • The Beat Goes On

    “It’s such a shame
    to waste time.
    We always think we
    have so much of it.”
    Mitch Albom

    As I approach my 70th birthday, these prophetic words by Mitch Albom, from his book For One More Day, ring true. I have always believed that I have plenty of time to do all the things I’ve wanted to do in my life. And why shouldn’t I? I was young! As it always does, however, time marches on, and with each passing day, my youthfulness gets increasingly more distant in the rear-view mirror of life. 

    Tomorrow, my oldest son, Tom, turns 38. Four days later, Steve will celebrate his 36th birthday. When I was actively involved in pastoral ministry, the term “young adult” was defined as men and women between the ages of 18 and 35. So even my two older sons are, by definition, no longer young adults. I could find this to be a bit unsettling, but I don’t.

    When I was 18, I loved being 18. When I was 24, I thoroughly enjoyed being 24. The same can be said for every age of my life. Even turning 65, qualifying for Social Security and Medicare, I was at peace with being 65. I can honestly say the same is true as I approach 70. Am I old? No. Not at all. I’m getting older, yes, but I’m not old.

    Just for fun, I looked up the word “old” on Dictionary.com. I was a bit surprised to find that there are 25 different definitions for the word “old” used as an adjective. Not surprisingly, the first few referred to being of advanced age. Definition #9 was a bit bothersome: “overfamiliar to the point of tedium.” Well, some of my stories and jokes might fit into this category, but I hope this definition doesn’t describe me! Definition #12, “no longer in general use” certainly doesn’t apply to me. Definitions #18 and #19, “experienced” and “of long standing” would be accurate. But #21 is downright insulting: “deteriorated through age or long use; worn, decayed, or dilapidated.” I don’t like this definition at all.

    Of all the definitions for “old” offered on Dictionary.com, my favorite is #23: “sedate, sensible, mature, or wise.” This is a definition I can fully embrace, for it is how I would describe myself at this point in my life. 

    I’m firmly convinced that “old” is not an age. It’s a mindset. A person is old when he believes that he has little to offer the world and those around him. A person is old when he has no vision of a preferred future. A person is old when he convinces himself that his life is no longer of value. This is why, despite the fact that I’m well aware that I am getting older, I am not old.

    Getting back to Mitch Albom’s quote (above), I know that my time on this earth is limited. According to the 2021 report on Mortality in the United States published by the Center for Disease Control and Prevention, the average life expectancy for an American male is 73.5 years. This could be an alarming statistic for me, but I have to remember that my Dad lived to the age of 82 and my Mom passed away just a month before her 93rd birthday. I’m also in better physical condition today than I’ve been in the past 45 years. Does this guarantee that I’ll live for twenty more years? No, not at all. Such guarantees don’t exist. When my time comes, it will come, whether I’m 72 or 102. Until then, I’ll do my best to keep my mind, body, and spirit in good working order.