Dan Shapiro offers his humorous, heart warming insights on news that forever changed his perspective on running errands, negotiating with his wife, and fixing the kitchen disposal.

To Dan, we say, “Amen!”

“I said ‘I’m so proud of you. Never think you stand alone. Mom will always be there for you and I love you,’” Kultida Woods said.”

Read the full story on Tiger Woods’ apology here.

Dad’s face was a picture of quiet anticipation. Tuned into those chubby cheeks and deep blue eyes, it was clear he was traveling with a dear companion. At a late hour of the day, with perhaps a tired family waiting at home for supper, these two buddies bounced along, enjoying every minute of the journey.

These are the moments, countless in a day, when we create memories and feelings to last a lifetime.

What I most disliked about the garage sale experience, though, is the person I became during the experience.  Mired in the clutter, dust and sweat, my thoughts were often ones of resentment for how hard I was working, or of exhaustion at the weight of the accumulated stuff.  This mindset and fatigue translated into one mean and crabby mom.  Both my daughters experienced it.  If they asked me for anything during those days, my response was a heavy sigh, and anger when the request took me away from my project.  Many times I was so preoccupied my youngest gave up talking to me.  At the end of each day, both my body and my heart ached.  I not only separated myself from things that I was emotionally attached to, but more importantly I’d alienated myself from the ones I love who also share this space with me.

My teenage daughter called me on it this week, saying that if I really didn’t want to do something for her, I should just not do it, rather than doing it in anger and being mean while doing it.  She’s right.  I was angry and mean.  I apologized, and asked her to stop me if I ever even thing about another garage sale.  We laughed.  For all the growing up I witness in her, she gets to see her mom do some, too.

We made it. During the days and hours that lead up to the meet she had the occasional admission of anxiety or fear, pleading for a reprieve from the looming unknowns of the event. My strength to help her face these fears came in part from the wisdom of a friend, given to me after the death of my mother-in-law. My daughters saw her dead body, attended the prayer service, wake, funeral and burial. My husband and I wanted it this way; still there was a part of me that longed to shield them from this sorrow. I shared this with my friend, who said, “It is important that our children learn they can handle such things.” Amen. So, facing a much less fearsome adversary, we jumped in (pun intended). I saw my girl grow right before my eyes, learning a life lesson that would have been lost by mom’s letting her off the hook or holding her hand.

Last night as I tucked her in, I reminded my daughter that “courage is not about not being afraid; it’s about being afraid and doing it anyway.” She was courageous, she knows she can handle it, and she inspired her mom to be brave when life presents her own “first swim meets,” too.

As I woke this morning, Peter Mayer’s Magical World was running through my mind.  I’ve learned to pay attention when a song is given to me, so I invite you to listen, too, and see what speaks to you.  Peter’s website includes the lyrics and a song sample.  Scroll down to track 11 on his Midwinter CD.

Peter calls this magical world “A dazzling place where life can be hard but it’s hard to complain/When sunbeams change to diamonds on water and rainbows in rain.”

Dear Reader, please comment:

What lyric is on your mind today? 

My mind moved quickly from exasperation to delight: these soiled items are evidence of my dear child.  They mean that she was there.

After the loss of our dear grandmother earlier this year, and the freak accident that claimed the life of actress Natasha Richardson last week, I am deeply aware of how fragile we are.  So, rather than fighting the mess, I’ll embrace it instead.  And, in the interest of teaching responsibility for oneself, I’ll live with these little reminders in place all day, so that she’ll have the opportunity to take care of them herself when the bus returns her safely home.

Dear Reader, please comment.

Her reappearance in my life brought to mind all the laughter and heartache we shared in our friendship.  I talked with my now high school age daughter about it, and the significance of the reconnection was a bit lost on her.  She did marvel at how this would come around, again, after all these years.  Sometimes I think she sees me as downright ancient!

Remembering the challenges of growing up, I’ve often wished I could download my experiences into my children’s minds and hearts.  It’s a variation on the old saying, “If I’d known then what I know now,” only this time I want my daughter to benefit from the learnings.  It might save her some heartache.  Plus, it’d be great to see her starting point be the summit I worked so hard to reach.  Just imagine how far she’d go! 

But, try as I might, she doesn’t listen to much advice in advance.  She does confide in me on many things, and for that I am grateful.  So, I have learned to do more listening than advising.  In that listening, I love her more purely than in any moment of unsolicited advice.  And by giving me the opportunity to love her that way, she helps me be my best self.

When my daughter dons her costume on Halloween night, I’ll encourage her to think of the good things about the celebration—the candy, time with her friends, the fun of dressing up, and her dad’s warm hand holding hers as she “trick or treats”—and to ignore those things that frighten her. 

Dear Reader, please comment:

What do you like about Halloween?

How do you handle the fears your little ones may experience?