Loving You

To my love:

I love you for who you are, not for who you used to be.  I love you now, just the way you are.  I love you with no strings attached, no preconceived expectations, and no demands...just simple, crazy love.  You are my world, my universe, and I would give anything to live my whole life over again with you.

Forever yours,
Michael

It's the Little Things That Matter

We often attempt to experience the big moments in life believing that those memories will be the ones that make a lasting imprint on our minds.  I believe we also need to enjoy the little moments...because it's the little things in life that matter.  So for just a few moments I encourage you to stop, take a breath, and reflect on the words below. Let your mind reminisce to that point in time where that little thing mattered.  It's okay to smile, laugh, or even cry as that little thing...that imprint on your memory evokes a wave of emotion.

Are you ready?  Remember...

• your first bicycle...and your first fall and the associated cuts and scrapes
• that cute little bee...that hurt you so badly when it stung
• your first kiss...and first break-up but still "remaining friends"
• your first car...and your first speeding ticket
• that touch from someone special...and losing that when they are gone 
• the birth of your first child...and the birth of your youngest
• your wedding day...and your first "disagreement"
• that gazing look from someone special...and that sharp look from them
• that superb career ladder...and the late nights away from family
• your best friend's laugh...and when you moved away from them
• that someone special...who is still that someone special

...and you thought the little things didn't matter. 

Man's Greatest Pain

Man's greatest pain is not his own, but rather the helplessness he experiences when a loved one is in pain.  For it is then that true pain is felt--that sense of futility, ineptness, and helplessness.  If only man could bear the pain for that loved one; but he cannot.  If only he could control or lessen the extent of that pain, however small, then that would be worth it all.  But sometimes man cannot lessen the pain, and can only watch and suffer in pain with the one he loves.  But that one action could be man's greatest gift to that loved one; for in that moment, he expresses love.

Life Happens

There are events in our lives that forever change our perspectives--your first love, going off to college, your first job, getting married, the birth of your first child, the death of a parent, and many other events that are unique to each individual. I experienced one such event earlier this summer--a work layoff--and although I had been on the "laying off" side of the table many times before, this was my first time on the "laid off" side of the table.

It is difficult to put into words the thoughts, emotions, and psychological effects of such an event. Frankly, I would be too embarrassed to convey how I truly felt, and even my wife probably does not understand how deeply this event "rocked my world"; but looking back on it all, I can honestly say that I am better off having experienced such an event.

Do not misunderstand me, I feel for those who have been laid off and are still looking for work after many, many months. I was fortunate to find work after only a couple of months off; but for me, the layoff and the events that followed (unemployment, job searching, financial struggles, etc.) taught me that life is short, work is just work, family is important, faith is everything, and that no matter how much you might plan for it...life happens.

For many, their perspective (right or wrong) is reality; yet sometimes perspective needs adjusted, and reality remains...well...just reality. For me, the events of this summer more closely aligned my perspective with reality. Reality is that someone else at work can replace us. Reality is that money is not everything and that family and faith are what brings true happiness. Reality is that in just three short years my oldest son leaves for college. Reality is that I am not getting any younger; and reality is...life happens.

So give yourself a reality check, adjust your perspective, and embrace that life will never be the same...only better.

Travelling

My work often requires me to travel...frequently.  Sometimes my travels are only a day trip, but other times travelling might be for an entire week or more.  When I speak with people regarding my travels, they often comment about how exciting it must be to fly to different cities, eat out, stay in hotels, meet with people, and see various sights.  But for those who have travelled for any length of time, the reality is completely different.  Travelling involves dirty airport bathrooms, high-sodium food, long days, lack of sleep, and separation from loved ones.  Sure, one might meet with interesting people, and even see a sight-or-two while travelling.  Yet, a sight seen in solitude falls short of the fulfillment one receives by seeing a sight with loved ones.  As for me, the family sight wins 24-7-365.

Happy Mother's Day

She calls me to bed as my body wearies;

She warms me at night like a blanket beside me;

She relaxes me as I lie in my bed surrounding me;
She coaxes me in dreams as REM consumes me;

She awakens me as the sun breaks the dawn;

She kisses me like sun rays upon my face;

She entices me to stay as the alarm sleeps;

She is my comfort, my joy, my rest;

She is my love.

Memories of Dad

Someone once said that: "You don't realize what you have until it's gone".  While this statement often rings true for many, such was not the case with me and my relationship with my dad.  Throughout my entire life, I always valued my dad--he was my hero.

This post is dedicated in his memory:  Thomas S. Smith, June 30, 1943 - April 5, 2005.
 

Each year around this time, my thoughts reflect more intensely on the memories I have of my dad.  The memories I recall the most are of the times during my junior high and senior high school days at OCA in Ocala.  Perhaps those days hold strong because we spent so much time together.  After all, he was the high school principal; but then there were all of the football and basketball games (and the removal of all the toilet paper from the trees around our house after all those games), the sports banquets, and all the other activities that kept us so busy.  Maybe it was all the time we spent working on the Malibu--fulfilling his dream of having a "hot rod" to pass on to me.  Perhaps those years are great memories because my dad was constantly investing in me, passing on his wisdom to me, knowing that he only had a short time before I was on my own.

My thoughts then turn to my college years, because my dad was there too--in Pensacola with me.  Dad was there, working odd jobs to put me through college, doing whatever it took for us to get by.  The memories of delivering Sunday morning newspapers with him seem like just yesterday...oh the laughs we had as we drove around in the Malibu at the break of dawn, tossing newspapers out the car windows.  Then there is the memory of the month we spent in that small RV, before he left to go back to Ocala; and the summer we lived in Sanford while we painted a bank together and stayed in a small travel trailer.  I  also remember the look of pride and joy on my dad's face when he first met his future daughter-in-law; and then years later, I remember that same look as he stood next to me as the best man at my wedding.  That proud look surfaced once again at my college graduation, when the culmination of tossing all those newspapers, working all those odd jobs, and completing all that hard work had finally paid off.  These memories are great because my dad was there, providing me with wisdom and support; but mostly because he was my friend.

The years of memories after college hold a special place in my heart, as my dad made all those trips to visit me and my family in Pennsylvania.  Although years have passed since I last lived in Pennsylvania, I remember those times vividly.  From the time my dad met his first grandson, and the time when he met his second grandson, I remember my dad's face beamed with happiness, knowing that his Smith name would be carried on through my two boys.  Yet, I also remember the tears he shed, the silence shared, and the support he provided when we lost our little baby.  How my heart ached for him, knowing that this may have been his only granddaughter from me.  But my heart lifted once again when he purchased a home nearby, and began laying the path to "snow-bird" there once he retired.  My family and I have many memories  with him at that little place we called "the cabin".  Best of all, we have several hours of video of him and my two sons, playing together, laughing together, and making lasting memories for them of their time with Grandpa Smith.  Perhaps those memories are best, because the love I had for my two boys made me realize just how much my dad loved me.

My memory saddens shortly thereafter as I recall how cancer once again took over my dad's body and eventually took his life.  Those memories are some of my darkest, as I struggled to understand why God would take my hero from me, his family, and his friends.  But then my thoughts quickly turn to the celebration of knowing that upon my dad's passing, he was with God.  Dad was no longer in pain, he could talk once again, and he was reunited with his family whom he had lost long ago.  In knowing that, I recall finding strength to make it through that day when I last saw his face, the day when friends and family gathered to honor him.

Even though seven years have passed since that day, I still watch the video my dad made for me that documents him partially restoring the Malibu.  Restoring that car was his way of coping with cancer and was a gift to me, in addition to the car.  Every time I watch that video, I imagine the joy he must have received when he launched the wheel spin on highway 301 with my sister filming the run from the back seat.  But each time I watch that video, a tidal wave of emotions also rushes over me as memories flood my mind of him and me together with that car.  Watching that video is extremely special to me because the Malibu is a common thread that runs throughout my memories with my dad--it was how we spent time together, it was the bond that kept us together, it was an expression of love to one another.

So as I reflect today on memories of my dad, I reflect on all the times we spent together, those memories that are forever implanted on my heart.  But most of all, I reflect on the longing to hear my dad say one more time:  "Son, you know I love you".