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The power of words.

The average day minstrel tries to pen the words that will break all barriers, to speak deeply to the one they want to entrance. A child learns words so they can communicate with their parents. Those with an expiration date choose them like a seasoning to a perfect meal. Yet, others use them to cut deeply; blame others; and inevitably tear down strong walls of trust to replace them brick by brick with faulty lies and bitter resentment. I once remember focusing on the phrase, "A still, small, voice to cry one day for me." A baby in the night, needing its mom for nurturing; a dad for confident hugs; and a genuine love from each parent. A baby, that will eventually become an unsure teen that wants nothing more than to be right. They will outwardly turn away competent advice, but inwardly treasure its importance and potential impact. That teen turns into an adult that needs to have the answers, but their father and mother's number on speed dial is used more often than any numb
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Mother's Day

I'm not sure if you have heard of the book For One More Day by Mitch Albom; but most people will tell you that when I talk about my favorite books or authors, this one comes up in the conversation. There are few books that bring tears to my eyes, that make me want to take action so quickly, and also, allow me to see the blessings in my life. There are five separate quotes I want to focus on, but before I do that, I'll provide some background info. The book is about Charles "Chick" Benetto. Chick is a baseball player who finds it hard to forgive himself, he finds himself at the end of the rope and he decides it's best to take his life. He, eventually, discovers that he is back at his old house, seeing his dead mother in front of him, as a ghost. Through his conversation with her, he seeks to understand ways to find peace by realizing what a mother's love truly is. "But there's a story behind everything. How a picture got on a wall. how a scar got on

U-S-A! MINI SO TAHHHH! RAH CHESSS TERRRR!

Nestled on the corner of 3rd Avenue SE and Arena Drive SE, unbeknownst to most of the world, save a hundred or so people, America defended home ice against Finland. ESPN didn't create headlines about it and other media outlets never showed interest. In fact, I never knew about it until 2:30 that afternoon. I made the necessary arrangements (aka I called my wife to make sure I could go.) Since the game was at 8:00 PM, I was cleared to go. I was stoked. How often do you get to go to a game of this caliber? I arrived to the arena and was immediately greeted by a front row, next to the doors, parking spot! This may be great to some, but not nearly exciting....unless it is -15 without windchill, then it's like winning the lottery. I hustle to the rink to watch the Zamboni  resurface the ice and grab a seat. Here I was, sitting at just the right height, so I could see above the glass at center ice; everybody else, in the way back. As game time approached, a bunch of kids gather in

Cole

You've seen sick people before. They aren't their normal self. Most of us, when we get the flu, want to curl under the blankets and sleep all day. We don't want to be social; we aren't in the mood to be active; and even our appetite goes away. I know, for most everyone, it is a difficult, miserable time and we look forward to it passing so we can be back to our normal self and carry on with life's daily activities. When it comes to being sick, have you ever seen anyone in Diabetic Ketoacidosis, or DKA? The person is experiencing such high blood sugars that their muscles cramp up in extremely painful ways, they are constantly thirsty but may throw up everything they try to put down, and their energy is so drained that they slump to a heap because all they want to do is sleep. The fight that the human body goes through to stay alive is absolutely draining, so much so, that death truly is the next best thing. Now picture this happening to a 10 month old that can only

A Little Unsteady

Lately I've been listening to the song "Unsteady" by X Ambassadors. I came across this song after watching "World of Dance" where Fik Shun interpreted this song beautifully. I have listened to it every day since.Click for the  Performance . Either way, the main message of the song repeats like so, "Hold on, hold on, hold on to me, because I'm a little unsteady, a little unsteady." I have had my days where I've felt unsteady, that is, I can't seem to get a foothold on life. My transition to Minnesota is somewhat complete. I'm trying to schedule times to go into school that allows either myself or my wife time to be home with the kids, which leads to wonderful time with the children but very little time with my wife. In the past week, we've tried to get to school, but 3 out of the 7 days, our car went out of commission with various parts needing to be replaced, so nothing that needed to get done at school was accomplished. My diabet

Dancing in the Dark

     The view from the kitchen wouldn't suffice anymore. My view of the back yard was limited to a 1.5 foot by 4 foot window frame, and the screen wouldn't let my eyes focus correctly. After about 3 days of watching from this vantage point, I decided to go out and experience this phenomenon in the correct environment; I went outside.        If you are really good you can predict where it will happen next, but just when you start to lose hope that nothing will happen, the glow happens and then as soon as the light started and your eyes focus in that direction, it decrescendos and you are left waiting again, staring at a mute backdrop. As I stand outside on the steps of my back porch, I fix my eyes at the muddied silhouettes of trees, fences, garages, and other shapes; I do my best trying not to focus so much on the shapes, because they are not the focal point to the show.      There are many ways to describe what happens; for instance, some call it a dance; others, a song wi

I'm On My Way

        Whenever my Uncle Russell would visit us in Texas, he would bring us unique science-y toys. We received a chemistry set, rockets, a plasma ball, and a boomerang. The year he got me the boomerang, I remember traveling to a nearby park that had an open field off of the sidewalk. On the other side of this field was a line of trees that started a forested area. I would say the distance (in my young eyes) was miles from the sidewalk to the forested area, but in reality  it was probably 30-50 yards apart.                 The goal of a boomerang is that if you throw it just right, it should come back to you. My first attempt was pretty horrible, mostly because I didn't know how to hold it. I'm pretty sure I threw it like a frisbee and the result is that it went 15 feet and died. Mind you, I was probably 9 years old. My uncle showed me how to properly hold the boomerang and then he threw it and magically it came back, well, sort of. It probably fell short about 20 feet, bu