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“A poet is,
before anything else,
a person who is
passionately in love
with language.”
W. H. Auden

The clock is tick, tick, ticking….
Time is running out
on Poetry Month ’24.
No time to mill about.
I need to think of something now
that’s thoughtful and worthwhile.
The month is almost over, so
my thoughts I must compile.

Tomorrow is the first of May —
a special month, for sure.
The temperatures are warming up,
but this we can endure.
In California, spring and summer
don’t get too severe.
In fact, the weather’s perfect
for a barbecue and beer!

We’ll celebrate some birthdays,
and some graduations, too.
I’ll also plan a book launch,
which is something I should do.
Through the Lens of Gratitude
is selling very well.
How successful will it be?
I simply can’t foretell.

The most important thing right now?
To focus on the good
that people do throughout the world
and in their neighborhood.
The world is never perfect,
there will always be despair,
but each of us, in many ways,
can show how much we care.

A simple act of kindness,
or a word to heal one’s soul.
These are things we all can do,
so this should be our goal.
As April ends, and May begins,
let’s make our attitude
a gift of positivity
with heartfelt gratitude.

 

“One of the most powerful
handclasps is that of a
new grandbaby around the
finger of a grandfather.”
Joy Hargrove

He’s happy. He smiles. He sleeps well. For the most part, he’s quite content. He is loved more than he will ever know. He’s Henry, our fifth grandchild.

Henry is three months old. He enjoys the attention he gets from his two sisters. He likes being outside, where he can see the trees and feel the spring breeze against his face. He also seems to enjoy books. It appears that he is able to stay focused on the colorful images on the pages of the different books being read to him.

Henry is still an infant. Eventually, he will become a toddler, then a little boy. From there, he will endure the challenges of adolescence and young adulthood before transitioning into full adulthood. Developmentally, that’s how it happens. There are no short-cuts.

Two things you will never hear me say to Henry: (1) “Hey, little man!” and (2) “C’mon, Henry, man up!” I find both of these phrases to be grossly inappropriate things to say to a young boy. Many might consider them to be cute little phrases not to be taken literally. I understand. In reality, though, they send the wrong message about the developmental realities of little boys. 

In her highly-acclaimed book, Let Boys Be Kids First, licensed marriage and family therapist Raelene Weaver writes, “There’s so much pressure on boys to act and be like ‘real men’: to grow up, to man up, to be strong, stoic, and never complain — to be a man in a boy’s body.” She reminds readers that in doing so, we are doing these young boys a tremendous disservice. Before they will ever be developmentally capable of acting like men, they must be allowed to be the little boys that they are. As the title of the book so eloquently warns us, we need to “Let Boys Be Kids First.”

Weaver tells us that “we must let boys know it’s okay to be sad or scared and feel all their emotions, and that we’re here to support them.” These types of emotions are not signs of weakness in the child. Rather, they are reminders that the young boy is human, and that he deserves the freedom to express the full range of his humanness in age-appropriate ways.

In his book, Real Boys’ Voices, Dr. William Pollack acknowledges that in our society, there is an expectation that boys be tougher and less emotional than girls. Raelene Weaver agrees, stating, “We must focus on our boys being good human beings and not worry so much about the man box… Everyone should feel safe enough to have all their feelings. Feelings are human and normal.”

Getting back to Henry for a moment, I am grateful for the opportunity to be a five-time “Papa.” Grandparenting is an amazing gift. I agree with the words of Mary H. Waldrip, who wrote, “Grandchildren are God’s way of compensating us for growing old.”

And while some might believe that becoming a grandparent makes one feel old, I disagree wholeheartedly. Instead, I embrace the words of former newspaper editor G. Norman Collie. He wrote, “Children don’t make a man feel old; it’s the knowledge that he’s married to a grandmother.” 

“The soul is healed
by being with children.”
Fyodor Dostoevsky

It was a short, simple afternoon excursion. When she finished her nap yesterday, I took Scarlett on her first bus ride — a 1.4 mile journey on the #25 VTA bus to the Starbucks store on Winchester Boulevard in San José. As I’d expected, she thoroughly enjoyed the experience. The vehicle rumbled down Williams Road, stopped at two stoplights and one stop sign, and even hit a fairly large pothole, tossing riders slightly into the air and prompting Scarlett to shout out, “Pothole!” (She learned this from all the make-believe “bus rides” she and her sister, Penny, have taken on Papa’s lap.) Several of the passengers had a good laugh when they heard her comment.

When we arrived at the corner of Winchester and Magliocco, we disembarked the bus carefully. From there, I carried Scarlett across the street to the Starbucks store.

Once inside, I put her down and ordered two hot chocolates and two cake pops. We sat in the store enjoying our post-nap treat for quite a while before a customer looked down at Scarlett’s feet and mentioned to me, “Your little girl only has one shoe.”

I looked down. Indeed, Scarlett was wearing only one shoe. I looked under the table. It was not there. When we finished our snack, we backtracked to the bus stop at Magliocco. No shoe. Apparently, Scarlett had kicked the shoe off while we were on the bus, something (I learned after we returned home) she does quite regularly in the car. 

“Scarlett, your shoe is still on the bus. By now, it’s probably in East San José!” The news didn’t seem to faze her. She simply stated, “Shoe… bus ride.”

She understood that the shoe, one of her favorite Frozen-themed shoes (see matching shoe in the photo below), was gone, and most likely not coming back home. Still, she didn’t seem overly concerned.

When we returned home, Scarlett announced to her Uncle B, “Shoe… bus ride.” When Kathy came into the room, Scarlett proudly shared the news. “Shoe… bus ride.” And when her Dad and Mom returned home, she excitedly informed them, “Shoe… bus ride.”

Yes, the shoe is gone. I could probably call the VTA lost and found today to see if a random Frozen shoe was turned in at the end of the night. In fact, I probably will make that call, but I don’t expect to see it again.

I’m thinking that, perhaps, it might be time for me to write another children’s book. Scarlett’s Shoe Rides the Bus could be a bestseller in 2025. The shoe could tell readers about its exciting experience of riding the #25 bus from West San José to the Alum Rock Transit Center, and probably back again. It could describe the diversity of riders it encountered along the way, share some of the conversations it overheard, and maybe even tell readers a little something about those passengers who picked it up, looked at it, and put it back on the floor of the bus again. Who knows? Maybe the book would earn a Caldecott or Newbery Medal!!!  

My soul was most definitely healed by spending the afternoon with Scarlett yesterday.

“Intelligence plus character —
that is the goal of
true education.” 
Martin Luther King, Jr.

Imagine spending a relaxing Wednesday afternoon at the ball park watching the San Francisco Giants play the New York Mets. Imagine, prior to the game, enjoying a delicious lunch with a loved one at Frankie’s Java House, just a short walk from Oracle Park. Then imagine strolling down the stadium concourse, at the start of the seventh inning, to get a Ghirardelli Chocolate Sundae, topped with whipped cream and a cherry. Pretty nice day, right?

Now imagine that the game has ended and you’re boarding CalTrain for the ride back to the South Bay. You’re comfortably seated as others board the train after you. The passenger car fills up quickly. All the seats are taken, yet more riders are climbing aboard. Then imagine that, among those riders who are boarding, a fairly large group of middle school kids realize that their only options for their ride from San Francisco to Redwood City are standing in the middle aisle or sitting on the steps leading to the upper deck of the train car. Yeah, ugh, right?

Throughout my seventy years on this earth, I’ve learned that pleasant surprises can happen anywhere and any time. This was my experience yesterday. The students were sixth, seventh, and eighth grade students from Hoover Elementary School in Redwood City. They were quiet. They were polite. They were enjoying each other’s company. They were talking, and laughing, and making the best of what could have been a difficult experience. No one would have blamed them if they were irritable or annoying. They had spent the previous three hours in the fresh air at the ball park. I’m sure they were tired. I’m sure they would have preferred to have seats to sit on, rather than standing in the aisle. Yet these children, all of them, continued to enjoy their outing. These children were not disruptive or self-absorbed in any way. These children represented their school, their teachers, their administrators, and their parents in ways that would make them all proud. I could not have been more impressed.

Hoover Elementary School is approximately 95% Hispanic/Latino. It’s not an elite, private school at which students enjoy all the amenities of a high-end academic institution. Perhaps this is why they took CalTrain to The City for the game, rather than enjoying the comfort and privacy of a chartered bus.

I wrote a brief email to the principal last night, commending her students, and their adult chaperones, for their exemplary behavior on the train. All too often, principals hear from members of the community only when students have been misbehaving. I think it’s important that we recognize and acknowledge kids being good. Hopefully they will always remember that their good behavior was noticed… and appreciated.

“When you wake up in the morning, think of what a precious privilege it is to be alive, to breathe, to think, to enjoy, to love.” 
~ Marcus Aurelius

When is the last time you were consciously grateful for the fact that you woke up to a new day? For most, I would think, this is one of the many things we take for granted. Yet we all know that waking up each morning is a gift.

On any given day, we may learn of the unexpected death of a friend or loved one. It might be a close relative, or perhaps your child’s preschool teacher. No one is exempt from the possibility of having our life end at any time.

Take some time today to reflect, with gratitude, on the fact that you woke up this morning. Take some time to appreciate that your spouse, children, grandchildren, best friend, neighbor, coworker, dentist, or favorite barista is alive and well today. And if the opportunity presents itself, let these individuals know how grateful you are to have them in your life. 

Gratitude makes a difference!

“The best thing to
hold onto in life
is each other.”
Audrey Hepburn

It’s always easier to take a test when you are the one who created it. So again today, I will address the question of the day (for April 23rd) posed in my book, A Focus on Gratitude. I wrote the question, and I know the answer… for me.

Today’s question is: “Who is one person for whom you are particularly grateful today?”

There is a subtle acknowledgment in the wording of the question. I didn’t ask “Who is the one person…?” My hope is that most of us have a number of people for whom we are grateful today and every day. I know I do. This question is an invitation to select just one of those people — one person for whom you are particularly grateful today. 

Without a doubt, at this point in my life, and in our marriage, I am particularly grateful for my wife, Kathy. I’ve mentioned in my writing previously that we have what I would describe as a perfectly imperfect marriage. We both have our faults. Yet for almost forty years, we have partnered effectively to raise three sons, to create a home for ourselves, and now, to enjoy the blessings of our five grandchildren. Yes, I am incredibly grateful for Kathy.

Much has been said and written about love and marriage. Poet Robert Frost wrote, “Love is an irresistible desire to be irresistibly desired.” I love this quote, and while there may be some truth to Frost’s words, and there is, love is so much more.

Oscar Hammerstein, best known for his success in musical theater, wrote, “The love in your heart wasn’t put there to stay. Love isn’t love ’til you give it away.” Again, something worth our consideration, but it doesn’t tell the whole story about love.

My favorite quote about love comes from a most unexpected source — science fiction writer Robert A. Heinlein. His explanation best describes my own understanding of this thing we call love. Heinlein wrote, “Love is that condition in which the happiness of another person is essential to your own.” 

This sentiment is consistent with quotes by C.S. Lewis, Martin Luther King, Jr., and many others who agree that love can be defined as seeking the highest good for the other person. In other words, love is a verb. It’s not about what we get. Love is about what we give to make life a little better for someone else. 

Kathy once shared that when she first met me, it was as if her knight in shining armor had arrived to sweep her off her feet and live happily ever after, and so she loved me. It didn’t take long for her to realize that I am not perfect. Despite this realization, she loved me even more. That’s love. And that’s why I am so grateful to have Kathy in my life.

“Happy is the man who
finds a true friend,
and far happier is he
who finds that true friend
in his wife.”
Franz Schubert  

“It is health
that is real wealth,
not pieces of gold and silver.”
~ Mahatma Gandhi

In my recently-published book, A Focus on Gratitude, I provide one question on the topic of gratitude for each day of the calendar year. The question posed for today is: “For what are you grateful today that you did not have at this same time last year?” This is an easy question for me to answer.

One year ago today, I was not in good health — physically or emotionally. My weight had increased to an alarming level and I was not in a good “space.” A visit to the Bahamas in March 2023 to say goodbye to a friend who was dying of cancer somehow switched the motivation button to “On.” Since that time, my life has changed in ways I could only have dreamed of a year ago.

My weight, as of this morning, is only five pounds above what it was when I graduated from high school in 1972. I have more energy than I’ve had in years. I’m eating well, drinking water regularly, and I walk more than in the past, though I still need to increase the daily exercise. My mind is clear and I am able to see a future which, just a year ago, was shrouded in a thick fog. For the first time in many years, I can honestly say, “Life is good!”

There are still challenges, of course. My cravings for pizza, ice cream, chocolate, and bakery goods has not subsided. I still get together regularly with friends for breakfast, brunch, or lunch, and Kathy and I still enjoy a night out at one of our many favorite restaurants. The difference is that I have finally been able to limit portions and make good decisions as to whether or not I can “afford” (calorie-wise) a certain menu item.

I weigh myself every morning now. I write down what I eat — everything! — and log the caloric value of each meal and snack. I am consciously aware of what and when I’m eating. I’ve also set some limits to help me in my food decision making. I’ve made a commitment to myself to keep my weight between 210 and 215 pounds. 

I also ask myself a critical question multiple times each day. My response to this question is critical to maintaining a healthy body: Am I willing to give up what I want most for what I want at the moment? More often than not, my answer is a resounding “No!” This simple question helps me to make better, healthier choices throughout the day. 

So today, April 22, 2024, I am grateful for my health. Maintaining this level of health will allow me to live my life to the fullest.

“Like a bird singing
in the rain,
let grateful memories
survive in times of sorrow.”
~ Robert Louis Stevenson

On April 22, 2022, Kathy’s mother, Norma Hamm, got the call that her table was ready. She closed her eyes and moved on to take her place at the table of the Lord with her beloved Larry. Though her passing was not unexpected, it was, none the less, painful to accept. Her eight children, all well into their adulthood, collaborated to plan a beautiful memorial service and reception in her honor. It was, to quote Dickens, “… the best of times and the worst of times.”

Today, two years later, Norma is no less loved than she was the day she died. In his book, For One More Day, author Mitch Albom pointed out the significance of a mother’s love. He wrote, “I realized when you look at your mother, you are looking at the purest love you will ever know.” I felt this way about my mother, and I know Kathy and her siblings felt the same way about Norma.

Albom wasn’t the only author to reflect on a mother’s love. J.K. Rowling, creator of the Harry Potter series, shared her thoughts, as well. She said, “Love as powerful as your mother’s for you leaves its own mark. To have been loved so deeply, even though the person who loved us is gone, will give us some protection forever.” 

To have experienced such a love is certainly reason for deep gratitude. On the anniversary of a loved one’s death, is there anything a person can say which might ease the burden of the loss for themselves and others? I believe there is. What we can say is a simple, heartfelt “Thank you!” 

As the German theologian, Meister Eckhart, stated, “If the only prayer you ever said in your entire life is ‘Thank you,’ that would be enough.” 

Thank you, Norma.

“In the silence of writing,
we discover the power
of our own voice.”
~ Nicole Brown

For many years, I’ve had a dream — to take some time away for a writing retreat. I am blessed to have an office in my home where I do much of my writing. I cherish this space and I appreciate the time available to me to focus on writing. As one might imagine, however, the gift of a home office is often accompanied by any number of distractions. While many of these distractions are quite pleasant, they are distractions none the less. It can be a challenge to refocus on writing once the flow has been interrupted.

I eliminated one significant distraction earlier this year when I deleted my Facebook account. For me, logging-in to social media was much like walking into the famous Cheers bar in Boston. It was a familiar place where, at any given time, I could run into any number of family members, friends, and acquaintances who happened to be there. What may have started as a quick 10-minute check-in often turned into a marathon multi-hour adventure. It took awhile, but I finally realized that social media was detrimental to my commitment to writing. 

I have had the privilege of attending a number of weekend retreats in my lifetime. Each retreat focused on a particular theme. I always enjoyed the opportunity to spend a couple of days away from the chaos of everyday life to focus on the theme of the retreat and to allow the experience to nurture my soul. In the fall of 1975, I participated in a 30-day retreat. The month-long adventure offered tremendous potential for spiritual growth. Unfortunately, I lacked the maturity, at that point in my life, to take full advantage of the opportunity.

When I consider the possibility of embarking on a writing retreat, I’m not thinking of just a weekend. I would like to invest more than 48 hours in this endeavor. The thought of devoting thirty distraction-free days to writing appeals to me. I don’t know exactly where I would go, nor do I know how I could justify the cost of such a luxury, but the dream is real. A small house on a tiny island might be nice, but there are more practical options, as well.

The more I write, the more I recognize that time devoted to writing is sacred time. Writing is an act of faith, an act of love, and an act of courage. A 30-day writing retreat would be an act of faith because it would provide more than simply uninterrupted writing time. For me, it would enable me to journey into the sacred space inside myself, to the place where I often discover the power of my own voice — and God’s. It would be an act of love because writing is a gift with which I’ve been blessed, one which I am grateful to be able to share with readers. Writing is an act of courage because putting my thoughts into words, and sharing those words with the world, requires a degree of vulnerability, as I reveal my experiences, thoughts, fears, and emotions with those who read what I have written.  

After seeing the movie The Bucket List in early 2008, I created my own bucket list — twenty things I wanted to do or accomplish before my death. Number one on that list was to write and publish a book. Mission accomplished. Today, the new number one item on my list is to experience a 30-day writing retreat. I’m a firm believer in the encouraging words of Walt Disney, who said, “If you can dream it, you can achieve it.” 

“A father’s love still travels
on after he’s gone.
A treasure hidden in the
hearts of his children.”
~ John Green

The welcome mat outside the front door of Kathy’s childhood home in Sunnyvale said it all: One nice person and one old grouch live here. Of course, this was the source of much laughter and conversation through the years. Everyone knew who the nice person was, so by default… Larry took it all in stride. 

At 6 feet 7 inches, Larry was an imposing figure. When I first met Kathy, her parents were out of town. When they returned home, they were greeted by Kathy’s younger siblings who excitedly informed them that Kathy had met someone. When I finally had the opportunity to meet Larry and Norma, I was a bit intimidated by the deep-voiced man whose hand dwarfed mine when we shook hands. Oh, he was friendly enough. Still, it took me a while to be able to relax in his presence. As time went on, I realized that I could not have asked for a better father-in-law.

The fun really began when Kathy and I started having children. The boys would be playing in the family room at Grandma and Grandpa’s home. Larry might have been outside working in the garden, a task which brought him tremendous peace of mind. When he came back into the house and saw one or all three of the boys sitting in his recliner, he would bellow in a loud, booming voice, “Get outta my chair!” The boys would scream with joy and immediately relocate to another part of the room. It was a game the kids loved to play.

At family dinners, Larry was often the main chef. He made the most amazing lasagna I’ve ever tasted, and he’d make it from scratch. Throughout the afternoon prior to a large family meal, Larry could be found in the kitchen cutting up carrots or string beans with meticulous precision. It seemed to be therapeutic for him. And after dinner, when we would all return to the family room, Larry would inevitably sing his favorite song:

I wish I was single again, again,
I wish I was single again,
for if I was single
my pockets would jingle
I wish I was single again, again,
I wish I was single again.

Family celebrations at the Hamm household always included Larry’s song followed by Kathy’s brother, Bob, singing his rough-’n-tumble rendition of Rawhide! 

Larry passed away in the fall of 2001. Today would have been his 94th birthday. Despite the twenty-three years that have passed since his death, Larry is remembered today with love by his eight children (and their spouses), fourteen grandchildren, and a number of neighbors and friends. He is remembered as a man of integrity, for that is exactly what he was.