Category: Love

Through His Eyes: A Lifetime of Wisdom Captured on Canvas

There are some paintings that do more than just depict a subject.  They capture an entire story, an entire lifetime, in a single moment. This piece is one of those rare works that demands to be seen. It grips its viewer, pulling them into a world of experience, emotion, and wisdom.

I see far more than just an old man with a pipe. I see the passage of time written across his face.  Lines carved by laughter, sorrow, resilience, and acceptance.

His piercing gaze holds stories of joy, regret, belief, triumph, failure, love, admiration, and appreciation. His expression speaks of a man who has not just existed but has truly lived, embracing all that life has offered, both the good and the bad.

Beyond his gaze, I see a hand that tells a story all its own.  His hands have endured hard work.  They’ve held the people he loves. These hands have fought, and they’ve also comforted. They are worn, yet steady.  A testament to a life of resilience, labor, and tenderness.

His grip on the pipe isn’t just a habit.  It’s a ritual.  A moment of reflection held between calloused fingers that have stood the test of time.

I didn’t know Richard Hatch personally before his recent passing.  But I can see through his painting that he had a remarkable ability to portray humanity on canvas. He wasn’t just painting a face.  He was capturing the soul of this man for each of us to see. 

Every brushstroke tells a story.  Every shade of color conveys emotion, and every detail reflects a life filled with lessons. His is the kind of art that doesn’t just sit on a wall.  It reaches out, starts a conversation, and lingers in your mind long after you’ve looked away.

Our days become years, our years become decades, and before we know it, our decades are a lifetime. This painting reminds me of that stark reality.  Not in a sad way, but in a way that urges me to embrace every moment while I can. To live fully, to love deeply, and to accept this journey for the adventure that it is.

Mr. Hatch’s painting reminds us of the beauty in aging, the dignity in experience, and the wisdom of acceptance.

p/c – Painting by Richard Hatch 

Nothing You Love is Lost

“Nothing you love is lost.  Not really.  Things, people – they always go away, sooner or later. 

You can’t hold them any more than you can hold moonlight.  But, if they’ve touched you, if they’re inside you, then they’re still yours. 

The only things you ever really have are the ones you hold inside your heart.”

– Bruce Coville (h/t James Clear for sharing)

I’m working on a project for my kids and grandkids that has me writing answers to a series of about 75 questions.  It’ll be an autobiography of sorts…a collection of memories and stories about life from my perspective.

While answering a question that asked me to describe a typical school day, I eventually got to my life in high school. 

I found myself thinking about the first person who I’d known well that died. 

Mr. McNally, my freshman pre-algebra and senior year chemistry teacher, was killed by a drunk driver who ran a red light and broadsided his vehicle.

I hadn’t thought about Mr. McNally for many years, but the moment I thought about my time in high school, all the wonderful memories about him came flooding back.  I could see his witty smile; the lab coat he always wore in the chemistry lab. I remembered where I sat in the chem lab and the goofy glasses we had to wear when conducting experiments.     

His untimely death was devastating news for our school and all of us who knew him.  Mr. McNally was loved by his students.  He was one of the special teachers in my life.  The kind that not only teaches their subjects extremely well but had a profound impact on my growth as a person.

The unfortunate truth about life is that as the years go by, you’ll have to say goodbye to countless special people.  Family members. Friends.  Teachers. 

Some will die, some will move away.  In each case, we will lament that it was too soon.  Their departure leaves a shadow on our soul where once they belonged.    

I think the most powerful part of Coville’s quote is the way it highlights the transience of love and our relationships.  We can’t grasp or possess the moonlight, but we can admire it and the feeling it gives us.  Similarly, we can’t possess the people or experiences we love.  We can only cherish the memories and the impact they’ve had on us, and hope that we were able to return a positive impact to them.

Coville’s quote encourages us to appreciate the moments and connections we have while we have them.  Knowing that if they end, the love we shared with them and their significance endures, enriching our lives. 

May the memories you have of your loved ones remain with you always, and may those memories be a source of light and inspiration even as your journey continues without them. 

I have one favor to ask. If you enjoyed this post, please forward it to others.

p/c – Mike Labrum – Unsplash.com

The Gentle Shepherd

This poem is dedicated to the Gentle Shepherds God brings to each of us as we make our way along His path… 

Photo by Jelle de Gier on Unsplash

Our pastor recently announced that he’ll be leaving our parish after serving here for 10 years.  Needless to say, he has had a profoundly positive impact on all of us, and he will be dearly missed. 

During his homily last Sunday, announcing that he’ll be returning home to Spain in a few short months, I kept hearing the words, Gentle Shepherd, in my mind. 

I realized these words were describing the amazing and loving man who was speaking to his flock about trusting God and the path He has for each of us.  

Inspired by Father Sergio’s loving service to our parish and his homily last Sunday, this poem is dedicated to the Gentle Shepherds God brings to each of us as we make our way along His path:     

The Gentle Shepherd

Graced with the compassionate love of God,

Through valleys of darkness, and deserts of despair,

He humbly guides his flock.

He is the Gentle Shepherd.

With fidelity to God and His Church,

Our shepherd shares with us the Word of God,

Unwrapping its sacred mysteries for all to hear.

He is the Gentle Shepherd.

Strengthened by our loving God,

He brings great tidings of joy and mercy,

Of God’s forgiveness and redemption.

He is the Gentle Shepherd.

He trusts and serves the Lord,

His purposes and His desires,

By loving and protecting each of his flock.

He is the Gentle Shepherd.

May the Lord’s blessings always shine down upon our Gentle Shepherd.

-Bob Dailey, 2022

#PadreSergioFita

What a Wonderful World

Sadness can find us with little or no effort…

Sadness can find us with little or no effort…sometimes on a daily basis.

I see trees of green,
red roses too.
I see them bloom,
for me and you.
And I think to myself,
what a wonderful world.

Sadness, defined as anything that’s the opposite of joy:

Emotional pain

Feelings of disadvantage

Loss

Despair

Grief

Anger

Helplessness

Disappointment

Sorrow

Frustration

Guilt

I see skies of blue,
And clouds of white.
The bright blessed day,
The dark sacred night.
And I think to myself,
What a wonderful world

Oddly, we sometimes seek out sadness for our own purposes.  Maybe we need an excuse for not being the person we know we can be.  Maybe we find comfort in burdening others with our pain.

The colors of the rainbow,
So pretty in the sky.
Are also on the faces,
Of people going by,
I see friends shaking hands.
Saying, “How do you do?”
They’re really saying,
“I love you”.

When sadness in its many forms pays a visit, we have two fundamental questions to ask ourselves:

  • What will we allow inside?
  • How long will we allow it to stay?

It’s easy to say that we get to decide.  That doesn’t mean it’s easy to kick sadness out once it arrives for a visit.

I hear babies cry,
I watch them grow,
They’ll learn much more,
Than I’ll ever know.

What to do?  Here’s a list that I have to remind myself of from time to time:

  • Tune your mind to find joy in the simple things
  • Seek out and cherish love in your life
  • Offer forgiveness to yourself and others
  • Share your time and attention with others
  • Seek opportunities to serve others first
  • Observe life with a sense of awe and gratitude.

Joy won’t find us the way sadness can.  Joy only shows itself when we take action to greet it warmly with open arms and outstretched hands.

And I think to myself,
What a wonderful world.

Yes, I think to myself,
What a wonderful world.

Oh Yeah.

Photo by Clay Banks on Unsplash

My Leadership Prayer

God, please grant me,

The faith and judgment to make sound decisions, and

The courage to change those decisions when they’re wrong.

The everlasting hope that, together, our organization can and will be successful.

The fortitude to seek continuous improvement in everything we do.

 

Integrity and a just heart to do the right thing, even when no one is looking.

A charitable approach to my employees, my customers and my competitors.

The ability to focus on the vital few while ignoring the distracting many, and

The prudence to deploy our limited capital wisely.

 

Oh, loving God,

Allow me to work from a place of humility, forsaking my prideful thoughts.

Help me look to others for motivation, not as a source of jealous envy.

Give me the self-control to reject greed, striving for what is needed and nothing more.

Show me that the trappings and status of my position are temporary and undeserved.

 

Always remind me that my life’s mission is to serve others before myself,

Helping my organization grow by focusing on the growth of every team member.

Remind me to provide life-giving feedback and questions that encourage rather than belittle,

To view mistakes and failures as opportunities for learning and improvement.

Help me understand that all of us are smarter and more creative than one of us.

 

Give me the strength and endurance to persevere through times of trouble.

Give me the vision to see beyond today,

To always strive for a better tomorrow.

Help me to become a positive example for others in my thoughts, in my words, and in my actions.

I invite You into each and every minute of my life.

Grant me the peace that comes from Your eternal and infinite love, now and forever.

Amen

 

Photo by David Monje on Unsplash

 

Grandma’s Hot Chocolate

There’s something special about grandma’s hot chocolate.

It doesn’t matter that she boils water and pours in the envelope of instant powder like the rest of us.

It’s what she does while the water’s boiling.  The questions she asks while stirring-in the powder.  The way she stops stirring to listen to your answers.

Grandmas have that way of listening, even to the stuff we’re not saying.

It’s the way she adds the right amount of milk to “thicken it up a bit.”  Nobody else gets it exactly right like grandma.  She knows just the way you like it.  In fact, she’s the only one who does.

It’s counting out the right number of baby marshmallows.  Enough to sweeten things, but not so many that they get in the way.

It’s the way she squeezes your shoulder as she places the cup on your placemat.

It’s the way she sits to enjoy it with you.

That first sip is such a treat.  Is it the taste of the chocolate, or seeing grandma’s warm smile across the table that makes it so good?

It doesn’t matter.  Your loving journey to the bottom of this cup of wonder is just beginning.

Funny how the simplest things in life are transformed when they’re mixed with grandma’s love.

A love she teaches us to bring to the simple things in our own lives each and every day.

Photo by Salome Alexa on Unsplash

Momma’s Song

We’ll always sing along!

I have a friend.  I haven’t seen him in at least 40 years.  Though all these years have passed, I have nothing but fond memories of our childhood together…usually in the desert, climbing on rocks, playing in the dirt, getting too close to the campfire.

His name is Jack now, but he’ll always be Jackie to me.  Just like I’m Bob now, but I’ll always be Bobby to him.

I couldn’t believe it when I heard Jackie’s wife had died.  It was sudden and unexpected.  There he was, facing this tragedy, trying to tell their daughter where her mom had gone.  I couldn’t imagine the heartbreak.

For some reason, each time I thought about Jackie and his daughter, I couldn’t help thinking about playing momma’s song and singing along.  I had no idea what any of it meant, but still, this refrain continued…singing along to momma’s song.

A couple weeks later, I was sitting in an airport (as I often do nowadays) waiting for a delayed flight to take me home.  I decided to pull out a yellow pad and see where this refrain about momma’s song would take me.

Here’s what was on that yellow pad when they finally called us for our flight:

Momma’s Song

Looking back…

We were so complete

Everything was sweet until that day

we heard the news.

Our silence grew

How could this be?

 

We never knew until that day

The doctor said it was too late

Her momma was gone, all too fast

There was nothing the doc could do

He shook my hand and held me close.

 

My only thought was of her song

That one I used to sing along

It was our Endless Summer

It had just begun

And now, alone, I faced her setting sun.

 

Oh Lord, please won’t you play her song!

I only want to sing along

You know the one I need, won’t you help me sing along!

 

And there she was, our sweet Lorraine

I could see through all her tears

All she felt was numbness and pain

Who would ever play her song?

Especially now that momma’s gone.

 

Oh Lord, please won’t you play her song!

She only wants to sing along

You know the one she needs—won’t you help her sing along!

 

We sat and cried

I held her close

I felt so weak, but it was our sweet Lorraine

Who gave me strength.

There we sat, I had no plan

What should we do now that momma’s gone?

And there it was, her words so sweet

The melody we knew complete

She was singing to us once again

The sun was rising, her new day was born

We could feel her in those words

We couldn’t help but sing along.

 

It’s been many years since that day

It’s our sweet Lorraine’s wedding day.

As we started to dance the Father’s dance, my daughter cried

Oh Daddy please won’t you sing her song

The one momma used to sing

I only want to sing along

You know the one, won’t you help me sing along!

 

And so we danced, and her momma sang

Her words so clear, she’s singing now and that’s all we can hear

Oh, momma, we can hear your song

We’ll always sing along!

Photo by Olivier Fahrni on Unsplash

Fishing and Catching–Bruce Kerner Style

When I think of Bruce, I remember the fishing and the laughter.  I don’t remember the fish we caught.

Bruce Kerner loved to fish.  He didn’t get to fish often.  He was a sign painter for various studios and was away working on movies a lot.  He and his family vacationed with us many times when I was a kid.  Back then, vacation time meant Big Bend Resort on the Colorado River and day trips to Lake Havasu.

We’d get a cove on the lake and set up our day camp with a shade, lawn chairs, and coolers.  Bruce always had a bunch of fishing gear that we’d bring ashore.

While the rest of us focused on swimming and water skiing, he focused on fishing.  The pursuit.  The exploration.  Deciding which baits to try.  Changing rigs.  Trying new lures.  Moving down the beach to a new location.  Floating out in a rubber raft to cast near the “proper” pile of rocks.

He always had a look of contentment on his face as he stared at that place where the fishing line meets the water.  Constant vigilance, looking for any sign of a bite.  Maintaining soft hands to feel the slightest movement.

It didn’t matter that the fish usually showed little interest in his bait.  For Bruce, fishing was more important than catching.  When he did catch a fish, he was rarely prepared to keep it.  Somehow, his stringer was always left back at the camp.  He knew that as long as we had daylight, he could cast his bait out there another time.

Come to think of it, we fished at night as well.  Down on the dock along the river, after dinner.  A bunch of us would look across at the lights on the Arizona side and cast out.  Our quarry on the river was catfish, and that meant stink-baits and lots of waiting.

Funny thing is we didn’t catch many catfish either.  When we did, we’d get a flashlight out, or flick a Bic lighter, to see what we’d caught.  The stringer?  Usually up at the trailer.  We weren’t prepared to keep anything we caught.

Sitting there in the dark, fishing pole in hand, staring up at the stars, a kid can learn a lot talking with a fisherman like Bruce.  The meaning of patience.  The dignity of discipline.  How the journey is more important than the destination.  How quiet time is a good time.  The way opportunity meets preparation when that fish hits your bait.  How stories about nothing can mean everything when they’re gone.

Bruce was taken away too early from this world by a heart attack, many years ago.  I find him in my thoughts a lot around July 4th.  That was one of the times each year that our families vacationed at the river.

When I think of Bruce, I remember the fishing and the laughter.  I don’t remember the fish we caught.

They weren’t that important.

 

Photo Credit:  Unsplash.com, Andrey Trusov

Be the reason…

It’s easy to get blamed for things that go wrong. What if you actively try to be the reason for a bunch of good things and stop worrying about the blame?

someone goes beyond their limits

someone laughs today

someone has a fond memory they cherish

someone learns something new

someone chooses life

someone believes more deeply

someone cares beyond themselves

someone knows they have unlimited potential

your boss can’t imagine delivering results without you

your employees can’t imagine delivering results without you

both can deliver results without you because you’ve taken the time to ensure they can

each person you encounter remembers your positive energy

your children know right from wrong

your children are independent and productive members of society

someone finds clarity

someone uses their imagination

someone thinks first

someone stops using lame excuses

someone steps outside of their habits

someone enjoys their day

someone smiles

someone is forgiven

the world is more beautiful.

 

Photo Credit:  Unsplash.com, Michal Grosicki

Later…

Later only matters in the present.

Later creates room for compromises.

Later lives for tomorrow.

Later keeps lists.

Later allows us to avoid.

Later tells us why we’re preparing.

Later delays forgiveness.

Later is born from hope.

Later connects without really connecting.

Later captures what we imagine.

We often try to create what happens later by our actions today.

Later provides direction.

Later reduces today’s expectations.

Later can hijack the present.

Later is the carrier of our dreams.

Later gains power when it remains vague.

Later simplifies execution.

Later is where many careers will find their stride.

Later is where the craziest ideas go to die.

Later tells us it’s okay to delay.

Later is where big ideas find their future.

Later makes it okay to add complexity.

Later drags us reluctantly forward.

Later makes today easier.

Later makes today harder.

Later isn’t guaranteed.  It can easily turn into never if we allow it.

Later only matters in the present. By the time we get to later, there’s a new later that will once again seem more important than our new present.

There’s more to say on this subject.  I’ll probably get to it later…