That Foolish Young Man

I opened the car door fighting the tears but not the memories: my daughter’s delight, as I squeezed into that tiny plastic pool for a swim; the ride on that miniature Smurf train, over and over; the pride of her cheerleading and the wonder of watching her become a teenager: The stuffed animals are for decoration, Dad!

And my son: teaching him to go under water by accidentally dropping my keys in the deep end of the pool—followed by my pocket change; that glorious day hiking at Pinnacles National; and those treasured chess games I always lost—and no, not on purpose.

As I finally start the car, I can almost smile at the unfair wrestling matches, two against one, and a father that always went down, but not easily. 

Next week, my eyes will be tearing again because, you see, there was a divorce. 

Twenty Twice

Looking back from the height of some decades, that divorce is now just one of my many regrets.  If I could just write to that young, foolish know-it-all, pass on some simple insights.

So I did. 

HE, of course, wouldn’t be interested in anything that even looked like advice, so it is a good thing I am a storyteller, a literary entertainer of sorts, and even he would enjoy the way these ideas are presented.

Perhaps if I had been in his life, that life might have gone a bit better, somewhat easier. 


I’d like to think so. 


Now?  I am that Psychic, the one who has turned his back on the future.  My sole focus is on discovering the key insight that can being permanent change -- no matter what the issue.  

I'm not working at the moment, but you can find your own deep insight.  Free.

You will also receive a way to make you positive changes permanent, without the quitting.  Free.

And I will be back soon,

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