A Beacon of Light

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  • My name is Kevin Carroll. I was born and raised in San Francisco, California, where I attended Saint Ignatius College Preparatory. I am a graduate of both Santa Clara University and the University of San Francisco. Following a 40-year career in teaching and pastoral ministry, I launched a new career as a writer and speaker.

    I live in San José, California. My wife, Kathy, and I have three adult sons and five precious grandchildren. I have much for which to be grateful.

    I can be reached via email at kmc43sjc@gmail.com

    My books are available for purchase online from Amazon. I also have copies of some of these titles at my home for those who would like to buy them directly from me.

    A Moment’s Pause for Gratitude  (2017)

    Cherries in the Summer  (2021)

    The Ambassador of 38th Avenue  (2022)

    Dad: 12 Questions…  (2023)

    A Focus on Gratitude  (2024)

    Through the Lens of Gratitude  (2024)

    A Bahamian Odyssey (2026)

  • The Final Goodbye

    “How lucky I am to have something 
    that makes saying goodbye so hard.” 
    ~ A. A. Milne

    I know neither where Joe was going, nor where he was coming from. What I do know is that something unexpected occurred. Joe was involved in a traffic accident which left him on life support at Valley Medical Center in San José for one week. At the end of that week, at the recommendation of Joe’s medical team, his family made the painful decision to withdraw life support. There was no hope of recovery.

    I’ve been thinking about Joe for the past few days. The day of the accident was, more than likely, quite a normal one. He went about his business doing whatever he did from day to day. When he left home earlier in the day, he probably said goodbye to his wife and daughter, never knowing it would be the final goodbye.

    I’ve also been thinking about Joe’s wife, Thuy, and his daughter, Vivian, for the past few days. They, like Joe, were more than likely going about their business doing whatever they do from day to day. When they said goodbye to their husband and father earlier in the day, they could not have known it would be for the last time. 

    Goodbyes are like that. Most of us assume that saying goodbye to a loved one is “Goodbye for now. I’ll see you later.” Every now and then, however, we are reminded that any goodbye has the potential of being the final goodbye.

    Growing up as the son of a San Francisco firefighter, I never truly recognized that saying goodbye to my Dad as he left home for his next 24-hour shift at the fire station might possibly be the final goodbye. Only in retrospect do I acknowledge that the risks to which he was exposed on each shift could have resulted in his death. When he did pass away, on July 31, 2008, I had no way of knowing that the goodbye I said to him on the phone at 6:30 p.m. that evening would be the final goodbye.

    During the time my mother was in hospice care, we knew that her death was imminent. For this reason, I was fully aware that each day’s goodbye might be the last. Finally, one day it was. 

    I mention all this as a reminder to myself, and to anyone reading this article, that life is precarious. We just never know when our life, or the life of a loved one, will end. For this reason, perhaps I should be a bit more conscientious in my goodbyes, acknowledging that any one of them could be a final goodbye.

    Go Fund Me page for Joe’s family: 
    https://www.gofundme.com/f/dung-joe-nguyen

  • In Search of…

    “If all you did was just look 
    for things to appreciate, 
    you would live a 
    joyously spectacular life.”  
    ~ Abraham Hicks

    In recent years, much has been written about the importance of developing the right mindset In our personal and professional lives. While the jargon may be new, the concepts of developing a positive attitude and living with a sense of positivity have been around for generations. Call it what you will. As Abraham Hicks points out, “If all you did was just look for things to appreciate, you would live a joyously spectacular life.” I believe this.

    To be fair, I should acknowledge that a “joyously spectacular life” does not mean a life without hardship and pain. These are unavoidable human experiences. Sickness, disappointment, death, and grief will, without a doubt, be a part of every human’s life journey. What Hicks is suggesting is that the mindset with which we approach these challenging times will have a profoundly significant effect on how we cope with them when they arise.

    A relatively small percentage of the population, it seems, are born with the disposition to see the good in life. Despite their own trials and tribulations, they maintain a positive outlook on life and have a way of seeing the good in some of life’s most difficult times. Most of us, I would think, were not born with this gift. Fortunately, I’m confident that it is possible to develop such a mindset. In this way, we, too, can see and experience the good in life more readily.

    In each person’s life, there will be times of crisis. These experiences have the potential to bring us to our knees, which is not necessarily a bad thing. Those who embrace the understanding of the word “crisis” as it is presented in the Chinese language are better equipped to recognize the potential good in any situation. In the Chinese language, the word “crisis,” as we understand it, requires two characters. Used together, they mean “crisis” as we understand it. When looked at separately, one character means “danger” while the other means “opportunity.” This is consistent with the Ignatian spirituality concept to which I was introduced in my four years at a Jesuit high school and five years at two Jesuit universities: finding God in all things. In any situation, we are invited and challenged to ask, “Where is God in this?”

    Despite the evil, hardships, and sinfulness which exist in our world today, we still have the opportunity to consciously and conscientiously seek the good in life. It’s up to us to seek and recognize these things in what’s happening around us. 

    Author Paolo Coelho reminds us, “It’s the simple things in life that are the most extraordinary.”  Let’s do what we can to make our lives joyously spectacular.

  • Called to Compassion

    Those who know me are well aware of the amazing young student from St. Victor School in San José who illustrated our book Cherries in the Summer. In the spring of 2021, while I was serving as a long-term substitute teacher at her school, I became aware of Vivian’s battle with depression. She had missed quite a bit of school while she was in and out of the hospital to deal with her condition. It wasn’t until the end of the school year that I became aware of her incredible artistic ability.

    I was asked by the parent organization at the school to have each of my students draw a self-portrait. These images would then be imprinted onto a variety of items and sold as a fundraiser for the parent group. When I received Vivian’s self-portrait, I was stunned. I also had an idea.

    I sent Vivian a copy of a poem I had written for my grandson about cherries, and asked if she might be interested in illustrating it. I thought it might make a good children’s book. Vivian was thrilled with the opportunity. Three months later, I had 48 colorful illustrations to submit to the publisher with my poem. Cherries in the Summer was born.

    100% of the sales income for this book have gone to Vivian. Her father set up a 529 education savings plan for her. With the success of the book, there is now more than $4,000 in her account. Vivian is hoping to attend St. Francis High School in Mountain View in the fall.

    Last week, tragedy struck Vivian’s family. Her father was seriously injured in a car accident. After a week on life support, it was recommended by the medical team that Joe’s family make the painful decision to withdraw that support. 

    Vivian’s mother, Thuy, has set up a Go Fund Me page to request donations to help defray the cost of Joe’s funeral expenses. I would like to ask those of you who enjoyed Cherries in the Summer to consider making a donation for this purpose. Here’s the link to the Go Fund Me page:  https://www.gofundme.com/f/dung-joe-nguyen  

    There are times in our lives when we are called to respond with compassion. For me, this is one of those times. I hope it will be for you, as well. 

  • Home Again

    “Maybe that’s the best part 
    of going away for a vacation — 
    coming home again.”  
    ~ Madeleine L’Engle

    A week in the Bahamas. My time there was restful, a bit stressful, memorable, enjoyable, and essential. To wake up each morning and see the spectacular colors of the waters of Nassau Harbor from my hotel window was invigorating. The hospitality I experienced, from the airport to the hotel and restaurants to the campus of St. Augustine’s College, reminded me of what a warm and welcoming culture exists in this little island nation. Each day was a gift. I had the opportunity to see several former students, many now in their sixties, and reminisce about our experience at SAC forty-eight years ago. I was also blessed to meet a variety of others who, while not directly affiliated with St. Augustine’s, will more than likely be lifelong friends from this point on. In all, it was a remarkable trip.

    While I felt very much “at home” in the Bahamas last week, I’m well aware that Nassau is not my home. I called it home for one year, August 1974 to August 1975, but I knew it was a temporary situation. Yes, that one year had a profound impact on my life. Yes, I got “sand in my shoes” and it found its way into my heart. But home, for me, is in San José, California, with my wife, Kathy, my sons, and their families. My time in Nassau was magnificent, but short-lived. The memories, however, will remain strong.

    Kathy and I work as a team to provide daycare for our grandchildren here in our home. The older two are now in school full time (kindergarten and second grade.)  The other two are with us Tuesday through Friday during the day. Their other grandma drives down from Discovery Bay each Monday to spend the day with them. They are absolutely delightful, but by the end of each day, Kathy and I are exhausted. It takes a lot of energy to take care of toddlers, and we’re not getting any younger!

    My older son is attending a conference for a few days in Napa. His wife had the opportunity to go along with him. So their two kids spent the night with us last night. Kathy took them to their school this morning and picked them up this afternoon. For awhile we had all four grandchildren with us this afternoon. Charles Dickens described the situation perfectly: “It was the best of times, it was the worst of times.” For awhile, they laughed and played together like best friends. The older ones took time to help the younger ones with art projects and by reading to them. Then, not surprisingly, things got a bit chaotic. They were all tired. They were all hungry. And while Kathy prepared a delicious dinner for all of us, the kids made it known, in no uncertain terms, that they’d had enough.

    By that time, my middle son and his wife arrived to join us for dinner. Having the additional adult support made things significantly more tolerable. We enjoyed a nice dinner, visited for a few minutes after dinner, then Steve and his wife took their kids home for the night. Now it’s just the two older one downstairs, content to watch a movie before going to bed. As for Kathy and me, I expect that we will both sleep quite well tonight. 

    I am home, and grateful to be here. Memories of my most recent visit to Nassau linger in my mind every day. I think of my friends there with love and concern. But I know that this is my home.

  • One More Time

    “Perhaps some detours
    aren’t detours at all.
    Perhaps they are
    actually the path.”
    Katherine Wolf

    When I walked out of my sixth period class at St. Lawrence Academy in Santa Clara on the last day of school in 2015, I thought it would be my last day in the classroom as a teacher. Little did I know that four years later, I would find myself back in the classroom as a long-term substitute at St. Victor School in San José for another two years. When I left St. Victor School in June 2021, again I believed that it would be the last time I stood in front of a classroom full of students. Wrong again.

    On Thursday afternoon, I had the absolute pleasure of spending a 50-minute class period with two sections of 11th grade students at St. Augustine’s College in Nassau, Bahamas. The students had questions about how SAC was different in 1975 from what they are experiencing there today. We talked a little about finding one’s purpose in life. I explained to the students that when things get tough in life, it’s helpful to remember that the word “crisis” in the Chinese language requires two characters. Together they mean “crisis” as we understand it. However, the two characters, when separated, each have their own individual meaning, too. Not surprisingly, one means “danger.” The other, however, means “opportunity.”

    I shared with the students that we are challenged to look for the good in any situation. I also reminded them that, as people of faith, we can look for God in any situation.

    Several of the students had specific questions they wanted me to answer on a variety of topics. Before I knew it, the class period was over. The students were energetic, polite, and incredibly hospitable to this old member of the SAC faculty. I’ll never know, but there is a very good chance that some of the students in that classroom were the grandchildren of students I taught in 1975.

    How ironic that what I now believe will be my last day teaching a classroom full of students will be at the same school where my teaching career began 48 years earlier.

  • Sand In Your Soul

    “Life is a journey, 
    not a destination.” 
    ~ Ralph Waldo Emerson

    In August 1975, as I was preparing to leave the Bahamas and return home after teaching for a year at St. Augustine’s College in Nassau, one of the goodbyes to my Bahamian friends included this brief, but unforgettable verbal exchange:

    “I’m hoping to come back to Nassau some day,” I told him.

    “Of course you are,” my friend responded. “You can shake the sand from your shoes, but it will always be in your soul.”

    I’m sure I didn’t understand the depth of those words until many years later, but they have certainly proven to be true. I returned to Nassau for brief visits in 1979, 1981, 1985, and most recently in 2006. Each visit was accompanied by a feeling of returning home. There was something about my Bahamian experience in the mid-‘70s, the people I’d met and embracing island life, that definitely got into my soul. Here it is now, March 2023, and that same sense of homecoming has enveloped me.

    One of the highlights of all my previous trips to Nassau has been reconnecting with former students and colleagues from St. Augustine’s College. Connecting with them, and visiting with them through the years, has been a true gift. 

    When I returned to California in 1975, I started receiving handwritten note cards on exquisite stationery from Kim, one of my 10th grade students at SAC. She had impeccable penmanship. Of course, I responded to her letters. We were two friends keeping tabs on each other for almost fifty years, and nothing more. I’ve gotten together with Kim each time I’ve visited Nassau. Over time, our handwritten notes and letters were replaced with emails, then Facebook messages. Kim married Simon and I married Kathy. We’ve been to their home in Nassau, and they’ve been to our home in San José. In 1981, I was honored to have the opportunity to take Kim out to dinner to the Wharf Restaurant in downtown Nassau on her 21st birthday. That was several years before she and I met our respective spouses. Even though that was a somewhat formal dinner, it wasn’t a date. It was just two friends celebrating a very special occasion.

    I arrived in Nassau this morning. The reason for this unexpected, hastily-planned visit is markedly different than any previous excursions to the Bahamas. I’m here to say goodbye to Kim. For several years, she has been battling cancer. Despite the diagnosis and treatment, Kim has maintained courageous hope and a positive spirit. Last week, however, in a Facebook message, Kim informed me that her doctor told her that things have gotten worse, and that it was time for her to put her affairs in order. When I shared this devastating news with Kathy, she immediately suggested that I return to Nassau to visit Kim. So here I am… feeling grateful for the opportunity to say goodbye and to thank Kim for being such a good friend for so many years.

    I’ve only been here for a few hours, but checking-in to the hotel, I met several people with whom I have mutual friends. It really has been a homecoming.

  • Air Travel 2023

    “To lose patience
    is to lose the battle.”
    ~ Gandhi

    First of all, I’m not looking for any battles. I’ve made that mistake before. In my younger days, patience was not a virtue for which I was known. As I’ve aged, however, it has become one of my strengths.

    I’m writing this post from the waiting area of Gate C-8 at the Dallas-Ft. Worth Airport. My flight from San José to Dallas was on-time and uneventful. (Isn’t it strange that I could consider any air travel to be uneventful? In reality, it’s miraculous!) When I arrived in Dallas, the craziness began.

    To be certain that I would be in the right place at the right time for my connecting flight to Miami, I asked the gate agent at the arrival gate to direct me to the departure gate for my next flight. No problem. He directed me to A-28, which was a 15-minute walk from my arrival gate. I arrived, checked it out, then set out to find a place for an early dinner. I also had time to FaceTime with Kathy. I was pleasantly surprised that Penny and Scarlett were still with her, though FaceTiming with toddlers is a story for some other time. 

    I enjoyed my meal, then reopened my computer. I don’t know why, but I logged into Flight Aware to check the status of my flight. I’m glad I did. The departure gate had been changed from A-28 to D-30. No problem, I had plenty of time, but I had to take a monorail to the D concourse. Again, it was a long walk from the monorail to Gate D-30, but I arrived unscathed.

    I had a nice conversation with two Nigerian travelers. They told me, after about twenty minutes of conversation, that everyone from California is friendly and outgoing. Then they said that meeting me just confirmed what they already believed. I didn’t want to burst their bubble. Our conversation was interrupted by a ticket agent’s announcement, informing me that my flight had been changed, yet again. It would depart an hour later and from Gate C-8.

    Back on the monorail, this time to the C concourse, I met a woman whose first words to me were, “You’re not from Dallas, are you?” I was a bit curious to know what gave it away. “You can just tell,” she responded. I didn’t ask anything else.

    So here I sit at Gate C-8, checking about every thirty minutes to be sure the departure gate has not been changed, yet again. Fortunately, I’m not at all upset or stressed. When I arrive in Miami, my connecting flight departs at 9:45 a.m., so it really doesn’t matter if I do my waiting in Dallas or in Miami…………. PAUSE……….. Another gate change announcement. Seriously!

    Okay, so I was told that the flight would now depart from Gate A-9. I got back on the monorail and returned to concourse A. Before I could settle into my seat and continue this article, an announcement was made that my flight was now scheduled to depart from Gate A-39. The good news: no need to change to a different concourse. The bad news, Gate A-39 is a long walk from Gate A-9. My feet are sore. My knees are throbbing. My lower back aches from pulling the suitcase behind me all evening. But I’m here, and, for now, I’m at the correct departure gate. Boarding should begin in about 15 minutes. 

    No time for any more gate changes. And yes, I’m still patient… just exhausted! This, my friends, is air travel in 2023.

  • True Wealth

    “You aren’t wealthy
    until you have something
    money can’t buy.”
    ~ Garth Brooks

    I don’t recall when or where I learned this, but the quote “You can’t take it with you” is spot-on. No matter how much material wealth we accumulate in our lifetime, when our life comes to an end, all those possessions stay here. A humbling thought, for sure. 

    I believe that there is a Heaven. I believe that life continues, in some other form, after we die. While I have no idea what the afterlife experience will offer, I’m convinced that it will make no difference whatsoever that I have a Master’s degree. No one is going to care that I’ve written a few books. Neither my credit score nor my net worth will be of interest to anyone. That’s just how it is.

    With that in mind, what’s really important in life? If the accumulation of wealth and possessions is not the purpose of life, what is?

    Perhaps true wealth has more to do with our relationships, and with how we treat our fellow human beings. For years, I focused on the value of gratitude. I blogged about it, I wrote a book about it, and I gave several presentations on the importance of being grateful for both the people in our lives and the experiences which have enriched our lives. I still make an effort to focus on gratitude, but there is another life skill which is equally important: Being kind.

    The older I get, the more I realize the power of genuine kindness. In my past, I had countless experiences which led to frustration, even anger. Only in retrospect was I able to recognize that these emotions did not help the situations. There were times when I felt the need to prove that I was right — and to prove the other was wrong. Such efforts are most always counter-productive. Kindness, on the other hand, allows for more peaceful resolutions to tense situations. 

    The often-quoted words, which have been attributed to a variety of sources, remind us that “It’s nice to be important, but it’s more important to be nice.” Truth!

    Some might mistake kindness for weakness. Nothing could be further from the truth. Kindness requires courage. It requires that we respect others, and ourselves. It requires that we become vulnerable, recognizing that some few will rebuff our kindness. 

    Much can be said about the practice of kindness. The quote I like best is this: “Kindness is not what you do, but who you are.”

    ________________________

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  • On Being Present

    Sometimes, all we have to do is show up. Be there. We may not know exactly what to say, nor what to do, so there can be a bit of awkwardness to the experience. In fact, in most cases, we don’t have to say or do anything at all. What’s important is that we make the effort to simply be there for the people we love. 

    I think this is why we often attend funerals of people we did not personally know. Someone we do know and care about has suffered a loss, and our presence at the services lets them know that we are there for them in their time of sorrow.

    I have vivid recollections of my last night in the Bahamas after my year of teaching there in 1975. During the summer months, I had been doing some volunteer work at The Ranfurly Home, an orphanage for Bahamian children. I’d gotten to know many of the children quite well. On my last night in Nassau, my sister, Cathy, joined me for a visit to the facility. I brought the Disney movie The Aristocats to show that night. When the movie was over, I packed up the projector, and said goodbye to the kids. I knew there was a very good chance that I would never see any of them again.

    When we got to my car, I put the projector in the back seat, started the engine, and slowly drove down the driveway to Mackey Street. Before I exited the property, I had to stop. Tears had filled my eyes and I couldn’t see. After a bit of a pause, we continued our journey back to the house where we were staying. When we went inside, I walked directly to my bedroom, as I knew my emotions were about to overwhelm me. I sat on the edge of my bed and let the tears flow. 

    Within minutes, Cathy entered the room and sat by my side. She didn’t say anything. I think she knew there was nothing she could say to make me feel better. I just had to embrace the grief and let it take its course. Not only was I saying goodbye to the kids at The Ranfurly Home, I was also saying goodbye to what may have been the most transformative year of my life. Cathy’s presence that night was a true gift.

    We all have opportunities to simply be there for others. It’s important that we seize these opportunities and provide the presence so desperately needed in these moments.

    __________________________

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  • Bzzt!

    As the Bay Area gets pounded with yet another atmospheric river, I find myself sitting at my desk in my home office writing about why I’m awake at midnight. The wind is howling outside, and a significant amount of water is flowing off the rooftop and down through the rainspout on the other side of the office wall. It’s an all-too-often sound in what has become the wettest winter on record in California. But that’s not what’s keeping me awake.

    I got to bed early tonight. I’m fairly certain it was before 8:30 p.m. Helping Kathy take care of Penny and Scarlett every day requires a good amount of energy, and by Thursday night, I’m usually pretty beat. I wanted to get a sufficient amount of sleep tonight so that I could function effectively tomorrow. I didn’t hear the first text at 8:22 p.m. 

    Given the very good possibility of a power outage tonight, I made sure to recharge the battery in my cell phone earlier in the evening. I also put it on silent mode before going to sleep. But a little after 11 p.m., I heard the first of several Bzzt! sounds. I ignored it. Over the twenty minutes, as I dozed in and out of sleep, it continued… Bzzt!… Bzzt!… Bzzt! 

    Finally, my curiosity got the better of me. I thought that, perhaps, something of importance was going on that I should check out. Well, that’s not exactly what it was. 

    I’m included in a group text with a number of my St. Gabriel School Class of ’68 classmates. We use the group text to share details of our occasional get-togethers. It can be an effective tool, and I stress can be. Tonight, the hot topic, which was a continuation of a previous discussion, was about where group members were baptized. Then one person mentioned our third grade teacher, Sister Mary Roberta, who presented a few select students with excellence in handwriting certificates, and welcomed some students into the Captain Boy Savior Club. The what?

    Several of those in our text group had never heard of this club, but I had, though I was never a member. The group recognized those students whose behavior was consistently exemplary. Yeah, as I said, I was not a club member. As I was reading about all this, the Bzzt!… Bzzt!… Bzzt! continued incessantly. After a while, I decided to respond to some of the comments that had been made. Within minutes, a very sobering message arrived.

    “Shouldn’t you guys be in bed? It’s 8:27 a.m. here in France. We are nine hours ahead of you.”

    Um,… yeah. Good point. What were we doing? By then we had said pretty much all that could be said about the Captain Boy Savior Club, so I decided to go back to sleep,… but no. Bzzt!… Bzzt!… Bzzt!… It just wasn’t working, so I got up to write this article.

    Now don’t get me wrong. I like these folks! I enjoy being in contact with them, sharing memories of our years at St. Gabriel School, and updating each other on our lives today, but I also need to get some sleep! I’m going to give it another try now. It’s 12:40 a.m.

    _________________________

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