A Dad’s List, #1

1. A full pot of hot coffee to start the day.

2. NBA Playoffs, Western Conference, Game 6.

3. My four year old whispering in my ear, “I’m a brave girl, Dad.”

4. A long drive’s reward: A good time with family.

5. A cool breeze after a warm day.

6. Talking about a vacation coming in two weeks.

7. My son washing his own hands.

8. The polka-dot skirt my wife is wearing today.

9. The kids all playing together, my bro-in-law looking after them all.

10. Two more days of weekend.


Bonus, 1: Make giving your kid a bath a core exercise.

Bonus, 2: Warriors win Game 6!


Inspiration Everywhere: FROOME


I’ve used the intro to that title before, because again and again, that’s my experience:  there is inspiration everywhere.   It’s an oft-used theme in my writing, and in my life.  I see it when I least expect it sometimes, and every time, I’m grateful.

This time it was seeing the news that Chris Froome, one of the best professional cyclists in the world right now, won a decisive Stage 19 in the Giro (grand tour in Italy being raced right now).  Happy for him and the win — it was really heroic, if you’re a racing fan (and maybe if you’re not).  There is something more though.

One of the first opportunities I had to publish anything I’d written was via a fan website for the Trek Pro Cycling Team; this was about seven or maybe even eight years back.  I found the website, contacted the site owner/editor, and he agreed to consider my posts.  It was a real thrill to have my work published, and will always be grateful for that opportunity.

From there I also published some work on a wellness website several years ago, and then started this blog in 2014.  This blog has been a real blessing for me as well; although the consistency of posts ebbs and flows a bit, the underlying themes and motivation and energy to write and get the thoughts out in the world.

And just like Chris Froome did in the attack he launched today in that bike race, I’m making the efforts to put it all out there, living the dream, being inspired everyday.

Back at It

be-consistently-consistent-21Consistency is tough to maintain. It’s also something that seems to be highly valued. If you can be consistent it translates to being reliable, being something that others can count on.

There are various internal and external influences in play that effect our ability to be consistent.

Sometimes it’s really tough. Sometimes it gets boring, being consistent. Sometimes it’s good to be consistent (like always being on time); sometimes it’s better to mix it up (consistently eating the same things might limit your taste to new foods).

Decide what you want to be consistent about, then stay after it. Don’t give up. If you falter in your effort, no worries. If it matters to you, get back on track, and keep after it.

Here’s to Pat Welsh…Perspective and Faith

Celebrating Pat Welsh…Perspective and Faith provide the foundation by which we can cope with the sadness of Pat’s passing. Those traits are also at the core of the lessons I’ve learned from knowing him. His perspective helped him endure for so long through his illness. His faith provided him the light that lead him home.

Faith and Perspective Helps Us Transcend. Taking from things heard yesterday at Pat’s funeral, there was much shared that helps us cope, to better understand the good that is present, even as sadness and loss washed ashore after Pat’s passing. The big take-aways as I heard them, that spoke to me go something like this:

His son Jack talked about being lucky that Pat was his dad, the greatest dad in the world. He was lucky to have had Pat as a dad, for all the love and lessons he shared.

His brother Don talked about how he’d prayed for a miracle that Pat might survive his illness often over the passed three years. And then he realized the miracle was Pat’s life and survival over those three years being sick, having Pat in our lives three more years through his battle.

The preceding priest, Monsignor Connolly, talked about the power of faith when confronted with the mystery that accompanies death. All this helps us all deal with the reality that Pat is gone. But also that he lives on in our memories and love for him.


Here’s to Pat Welsh…on Friday, We Celebrated Him

This from a Friday, another Friday that turned out to be GOOD, for reasons other than the usual motivations.  We gathered in Redondo Beach, southern California.  We packed a church and sang together and prayed together and listened and chatted and remembered and celebrated his life.

Celebrating Pat Welsh…as sure the sun comes up each day, Pat’s competitive spirit burned hot, and bright, and knew no limits, right up until the end. Of that I am sure.

He was always in the hunt, believing he could get a positive outcome. Whether on the golf course, or working a business deal, in a game of cribbage, or battling cancer, he was in the fight.

Until God called him home, two weeks ago – I pray he closed his eyes and walked toward the light knowing he did the very best he could, an example for us all.

Today (Friday, 4 May) the tribe gathers together with his family to celebrate his life. We love you, Pat!

Here’s to Pat Welsh: A Zest for Life

Thursday, Celebrating Pat Welsh…His zest for life was palpable. Consider the Hawaiian shirts he wore, his fan enthusiasm for the many sport teams he followed, and the way he danced and sang along to his favorite bands (think Oingo Boingo, Joe Jackson, Van Halen, to name a few). It was evident: Pat squeezed every little bit of good he could from life. He loved it, and it loved him back.

The first time I remember seeing Pat was at a college event when we were freshmen. 1985. We were playing Broom Ball. His zest for life was apparent, as he chased that ball around the rink.

Over the rest of our college years, after we’d become friends, that passion for everyday manifested over and over. Whether it was playing or watching or studying or working or whatever it was, Pat had a plan, and an appreciation for the moment.

He inspired me over and over again throughout all our years as friends, even though we would only talk a few times a year. Frequency didn’t matter. He just brought the energy again and again. His little smile that often became a big grin, and a steady gaze that said, “I’m all in.”

We were all better for it.