End Game.

Does anyone else feel mentally and physically exhausted right now? 

The propaganda, the stupid phrases, the constant lecturing. The unavoidable, in-your-face madness EVERYWHERE you go. The speculation and worst-case scenario narrative that refuses to see anything positive.  The unending “I heard from Jim who heard from Ted who heard from Mary’s sister’s neighbor’s boyfriend” elementary telephone game. The floor decals, the great mask debate, the “if you don’t believe what I define as science you deserve to catch this” nonsense. The tattling, constant shaming, in your business craziness. The realization that reading something on the internet gives some people “expert” knowledge and permission to “educate” others. The never-ending, ever-changing lists of regulations, rules and guidelines, each one crazier than the one before. Stay-at-home “orders” that defy logic and common sense. Hand washing, sanitizing, antibacterial everything. Food shortages, grocery hoarders, mass panic bullshit. Name-calling, insult-throwing, know-it-all internet trolls. Daily briefings, press conferences, “journalism” and agenda-driven stupidity. Lost moments, forgotten milestones, missed events and canceled celebrations. 

Maintain six feet of separation? Six feet under and six feet tall are the only ways I want to hear six feet used in a sentence for the rest of my life. And then there is the question I have been asking since March and is still unanswered: What, exactly, is our end game? And when we finally figure that out, what will be the unfixable, unchangeable, never-able-to-recover-from consequences?

Make good choices. Be kind and compassionate. Mind your own business.

It’s May now. I have opinions and observations. 

I have many favorite things about this current situation. And by favorite, I of course mean completely asinine and ridiculous things that are making me lose my mind…

Let me use my reverse Black Friday analogy. “What is that,” you ask, intrigued?

Leading up to Black Friday, all of the conversations go like this:

“Did you see that Walmart has the XBOX for $249?”

“Target has the best deals on big screen TVs!”

“Best Buy is the place to go for Chromebooks!”

Only now, it’s like this:

“I cannot believe that I saw 3 people without masks at Walmart! They should kick those people out!”

“Target is not enforcing social distancing. Someone was standing 5.5 feet from me in the produce department!”

“Why is Best Buy even open?! They are so NOT essential!”

Some people are reporting on this stuff literally hourly. Like it’s their job. 

And then factor in the single worst social media website in the history of the Al Gore-invented internet, Next Door, and you’ll be convinced that these are actual jobs. The way people are taking such pride in shaming and lecturing others and spewing all of their “expert” knowledge is disturbing. I, for one, am shocked by the number of pandemic experts I know. I mean, how have I not realized before that literally everyone around me is a scientist? Never mind that Beeker from the Muppets is more capable than some of these morons, they are sure THEY ARE RIGHT. AND YOU ARE WRONG.

I believe I have said from the beginning that this situation is bringing out the absolute worst in humanity. I stand behind that. I mean, just several months ago, how many of you could have imagined a scenario where your neighbors would call the cops because you had 6 people in your backyard, which is 1 more than the “allowed” 5? And not only that, but we also have the birth of the Tattle Bragger and they are the worst. They tattle on their neighbors and then brag about it on the previously mentioned website. And then other Tattle Braggers applaud them. They are like a cult of pretentious tattletales. And remember the Brady Bunch episode where Cindy is told “Nobody likes a tattletale?” Well, apparently in 2020, the world has completely lost its mind and now people love tattletales. Me? I still prefer to live by the “Snitches get stitches” battle cry. But that is just me.

This month we also tried to get back to some semi-normal living and decided it was time to camp. And by camp, I mean take out our enclosed camper, with its own bathroom, for a weekend. No shared space here, only the 4 of us in the camper. After searching a bit, we finally found an open campground and decided to get away for the weekend with some friends.  We booked a reservation in Wyoming and then the Wyoming governor decided not to open the state parks after all. False alarm! But, not being people to give up easily, we found another campground in Western Colorado and booked 2 sites for the weekend. We headed out of town on Friday morning, ready for a peaceful weekend of campfires, cold beer, the great outdoors and good conversation. And if that was how the weekend unfolded, I would not be writing this.

We checked into the campground without incident and got everything set up. The campground was at capacity and there were clear rules to follow: No public restrooms, no more than 5 people around a campfire, social distancing, etc. We made dinner and were just setting up a campfire when we spotted an officer of the law in another campsite. Hmmm, what is going on over there? Maybe they have too many people around the campfire? Well, the next thing you know, the Sherriff is standing in our campsite asking if he can speak to us for a few minutes. He then proceeds to explain that the campground opened up without the permission of Pitkin County and everyone needed to leave. We are all looking at each other like “Is he for real?” And I’m thinking “It’s 8 pm, we are 4 hours from home and every adult has been drinking.” He must have read my mind because the next thing out of his mouth was “It wouldn’t be a very safe decision to require everyone to leave on a Friday night, so you have until tomorrow at 11AM to vacate the property.”

In his defense, he seemed to think that the entire thing was stupid. He noted how we were all in our own space, with our own bathroom, and asking us to leave seemed a little extreme. But, as he noted, “I have to enforce the law.”

So, the next morning, the campground manager came around and told us we could relocate to a sister campground about 30 miles away and the fee would be comped, along with a complete refund for Friday night. If there is anything I love more than camping, it’s free camping!

Off we went! 

We arrived at the new campground, in another county, and it was a completely different story. The restrooms were open, no one was wearing masks and there were no social distancing rules. (By the way, I absolutely despise the term “social distancing.”) And therein lies the issue with this whole situation: Wherever you go, the “rules” are different. There is no uniform response to the pandemic. And since there is no uniform response, how are we supposed to know what rules apply where? What is open and what is not? It’s like driving down a road in the middle of nowhere where the speed limit keeps changing every 2 miles.

My other favorite thing right now are the righteous, morally superior minions announcing, proudly “If you don't wear a mask in public, you deserve to get COVID and die.” Yes, that is an actual thing. It’s a disturbing thing, but it's real. Is this what we have become as a society? Judging people and wishing death on them when we know nothing about their situation? It’s very alarming, to say the least. And to those people, I have one word and one word only: Karma.

And that is where I am at the moment. Which brings me to the title of this post and how I’m currently trying to live:

Make good choices. Be kind and compassionate. Mind my own business. 

Notice that Judge Others and Wish Death on People are not on my list. Maybe think long and hard if those things are on your list and adjust accordingly. Is that who you really want to be? I want to come out of this better than we were before. At the moment, we look like a society on the decline and that is very concerning. 

Be well. 

Pandemic=New Job for Kate

So, like many others, I’ve had my hours drastically reduced at my regular job and I decided to be proactive and find a part-time job until all of this blows over. I applied at a local big box store, was called the next day for an interview, went to the interview, was offered the job on the spot and just completed my orientation. 

Now, most who know me know that I like to find humor in everything I do. While this situation we are currently in is indeed serious, there is also much to still find amusing. And you know, laughter being the best medicine and all, I think it’s important to still laugh, even when times are uncertain.

I started this blog a decade ago, when my job was outsourced to India. I told that story, in its entirety, mainly because it was so unbelievable. I then moved over to corporate America tales, because I had a lot of them from my publishing career.

Then I started my own business and focused on that for 5 years. In July of 2019, my favorite client hired me full-time, and I found myself doing a job that I love with people that I love. The fact that all of that could be disappearing is too overwhelming for me to think about for too long, so I will put my energy into blogging about my new job. In new circumstances. In retail. Where, in the 2020 pandemic, I am now considered “essential.” Which really makes me wonder, if I wasn’t deemed “essential” before in my life, what the heck was I? Oh, don’t mind me, I’m the non-essential Mom who keeps this family running. 

Anyway, back to orientation we go. In the orientation room, there are 5 of us, plus the HR person running the orientation. I’m sizing everyone up because that’s what I do. Aside from the HR employee, I’m for sure the oldest person among the 5 of us. I immediately pick out the resident weirdo, because there is most certainly always one amongst us. One person has on gloves. The rest of us do not. One person keeps moving further and further away from the table and the rest of us. We are finally ready to begin and are asked to introduce ourselves and state why we wanted to work at the Big Box Store. I go first. 

“Hi, I’m Kate. I recently had my hours reduced at my regular job and needed to find something part-time. I’ve always liked shopping here, so I decided to apply.”

Easy enough, yes? 

Next person states that he is a student and was working for a local college and needed to find something since the college campus is now closed and he lost his income. 

Still easy enough, yes? Not so fast.

Next person announces to the group that she is going through a nasty divorce and is in the middle of an ugly custody battle and is not sure if she should hand the kids off to the ex this weekend since the courts are closed. What should I do, she asks?

Blank stares.

She continues to tell us more about her life and then reveals that she was a wait-person at a local restaurant that has now permanently closed, so she needed to find a job quickly.

OK, too much info at the beginning, but she saved it at the end and got back on track, so we are good. Until…the next person starts talking.

The next person is who I pegged as the resident weirdo. And good Lord, she did not disappoint. She begins by announcing that she has a child who was conceived via in vitro.

SHE TELLS A ROOM FULL OF STRANGERS THAT SHE HAD A CHILD VIA IN VITRO.

Immediately I think to myself “I should ask for a rebuttal at the end and say “Kate again, forgot to mention that I have 2 kids who were conceived the old-fashioned way. That’s all.”

Anyway, back to the weirdo. She then lists off 10-12 places she has worked (I honestly lost count) and concludes with a too-long story about how she always wanted to be a baker and finally got a job at a bagel shop as a baker and OMG, IT WAS TOO STRESSFUL AND I HAD TO QUIT! So that is why I am here, at the Big Box Store.

AKWARD SILENCE.

STILL AKWARD SILENCE.

Last person finally goes, introduces herself and tells us that she lives an hour away and is not sure the drive will be worth it, but she’s going to give it a whirl.

Me, stealing a glance at the HR person and doing a Jedi mind trick on her “These are not the people you’re looking for.”

Next step, go to employee computers with our new employee numbers and get a login/password set up. Easy enough task, yes?

Um, in theory, yes. In reality, NO.

Person who lives an hour away is sharing a computer with me. And holy hell, she is not keeping 6 feet between us. Have you not heard of SOCIAL DISTANCING? Well, I had never heard of it before last week either, but it’s currently the most used phrase in America. Learn it. Live it. Know it. (In all seriousness, I could care less how close someone sits to me. But if you cough or sneeze on me, I promise I’m going to jail.)

So, other person starts on the computer. The steps are:

1.     Enter new employee number.
2.     Make a password using the provided criteria.
3.     Hit Enter.
4.     Go back to main page and login in with new credentials.

Other person follows Step 1. Check.

Step 2: Fail. She says to me: “Why won't this work?” I say “See the red exclamation point? You didn’t use all of the requirements for your password.”

Step 2 again: Success.

Step 3: Success.

Step 4: Fail. Fail. Fail. Three strikes and you are out.

For those keeping up, she made a password and then 10 seconds later couldn’t recall said password and locked herself out from 3 failed attempts. FACE PALM.

Calls over orientation leader and states what happened. Orientation leader, visibly annoyed with a WTF expression on her face, says “Well, we are going to have to call corporate IT to get you unlocked.” She then tells me to get on the computer and follow the steps. Boom. Done. She then asks me if I can help the others. Um, sure.

Orientation leader disappears with failed password chick and I start running the orientation. When she returns, all of us are done with all required paperwork. I’m beginning to wonder how long they will have me folding clothes as my job…

So, the rest of the class is OK. We get our schedules, take a store tour and take some online classes (Resident Weirdo can’t pass the alcohol sales class and after 8 failed attempts on the test, the orientation leader essentially gives her the answers so she can continue with her training). To be clear, both of my kids could’ve passed that test on the first try and not because they are familiar with alcohol sales, but because they are familiar with reading.  And comprehension. I digress.

So, off I go. Tomorrow is my first shift at the Big Box Store. I have no idea what to expect. Heck, I don't even really know how I feel about this. But, I do know one thing: If orientation was any indication, I’m going to have a TON of great stories, and that will help me get through this phase of my life.  And hopefully I can make others laugh in the process.

And for anyone who is wondering, NO, I DO NOT GET DIBS ON TP.

Be well and stay tuned…

The Patio of Destiny

I gave up blogging a few years ago and I've missed it ever since. I got to the point where I said everything I wanted to say. At least I did at that time in my life. Now, I have more to say, so Kate Off the Clock has been revived. It's a rebirth. A relaunch. Rebranding. Whatever you want to call it is fine with me.

A lot has changed since I last posted. For starters, I lost my Dad and a piece of my heart went with him. But, it's that loss that ultimately led me back to my true self. Sometimes it takes a tragedy to have that much needed flash of clarity. And of course it takes many trips down the wrong road before you finally make that turn on the road to redemption.

In my case, my road to redemption involved a life changing event at a local Starbuck's. For a long time, I felt so humiliated and angry that I couldn't even address it. But now? Now I'm finally free and can look at that Starbuck's patio for what it is: The Patio of Destiny. (My brilliant 12-year-old daughter came up with this very appropriate name over the summer.)

I know, it sounds a bit grandiose and ridiculous. But, there are certain experiences in life that will stay with us forever. We might see these experiences in different ways over time, but a truly life-defining moment never leaves you. It becomes a part of you. A part of your history. In my case, it took me awhile to see this moment for what it really was, but once I did, I realized that it needed to happen to me. 

The nutshell version of the story is this: I had a job in home healthcare (!) that I hated and quite honestly, I wasn't well suited for. A very good friend of mine was my boss. Ten days prior to the referenced incident, I was transferred to the Denver office where I received a new boss, whose name I will never utter again. New Boss didn't like anyone questioning her. I made the fatal error of questioning her on something. 

Not long after questioning New Boss, I received an invitation to meet at the local Starbuck's on a Friday at 9AM. Old Boss was also on the invite. Old Boss knew what was going to happen at Starbuck's and she failed to give me a head's up. She failed on many levels, but not telling me ahead of time was the worst. There are certain times in life where you get the sinking feeling in your gut that something is very wrong. I've learned that it's best to always go with that feeling.

I arrived at the Starbuck's on July 25, 2014 and ordered my favorite drink. I then took a seat on the patio and scanned the parking lot for the arrival of the others and the impending doom that I knew was coming. And sure enough, the two bosses walked up, one carrying a very ominous folder. The next few minutes are a blur in my otherwise stellar memory, but I do know that I was fired in a public place, given a letter (which I still read once in a while), a check, and sent on my way.

The hours, days and weeks that followed this awful and humiliating event are not some of my finest. To say I went off the rails would be an understatement. It wasn't until I saw a quote from a motivational speaker that I pulled it together and looked at the much bigger picture:

"You either get bitter or you get better. It's that simple. You either take what has been dealt to you and allow it to make you a better person, or you allow it to tear you down. The choice does not belong to fate, it belongs to you." —Josh Shipp

So, in early October of 2014, with the help of my very amazing and patient husband and very supportive mom,  I finally launched the business that I had been envisioning for nearly 20 years. I came back with a vengeance and a steely determination to make it. Getting fired lit a blaze in my soul. The fuse was there for nearly 2 decades, it just needed a spark to get going. A public firing was, apparently, just what I needed to ignite my inner fire. And from those flames, Flipside Production was born and has been burning brightly ever since.

And here I am, 2+ years later: Successful, grateful, happy. And now when I look back to that day on the Starbuck's patio, I see it for what it was: A defining moment. They did me a favor by cutting me loose. Being free allowed me to pursue what I really wanted to do and put me on the right path to be who I have always wanted to be: My own boss. Did I deserve to be fired? No. Did they have to fire me in public? Hell no. But, it sure makes for a great story.

And what about Old Boss? Well, she is my exercise in forgiveness and we have slowly repaired our friendship over the years. New Boss? She can rot in hell. I know she will get hit by a karma train at some point and that is enough. Although, is there any greater revenge than landing on your feet, better off than you were before?

In all honesty, it was extremely difficult for me to see the "silver lining" in this situation. It took quite some time before I could look back on it and be able to take something positive away. Before this happened to me, the following things were true: I was not a very forgiving person. I had a lot of pride. I blindly trusted others. I invested too much of myself in friendships. I rarely failed at anything. I believed that loyalty was the most important character attribute, even though I had few loyal people in my inner circle. I thought I was strong, although my strength had rarely been tested.

The take away is this: Forgiveness sets you free, although I still struggle with this one from time to time. (Thankfully, I have a best friend who helps me in this area.) Pride can be lost and found again. Friendship is a gift. Trust has to be earned. Failure is not fatal and failing actually makes you stronger. If you're not loyal, I don't need you. Finding out I was stronger than I realized became another one of my life's defining moments.

Very few people know this story. Many people have asked over the last couple of years about the back story on Flipside Production. I wasn't able to tell it until now. 

Behind every business, there is a story. This is the Flipside story and I'm so thankful that I can now say "See you on the Flipside" and know that is has actual, literal meaning. 

The very awesome tunes playing in the background while writing this: Spirits, the Strumbellas; Closer, The Chainsmokers; Good Grief, Bastille; Could Have Been Me, The Struts; A Murder of One, Counting Crows; Hold Back the River, James Bay; Cake By the Ocean, DNCE; Ghost, Ella Henderson

My Dad: A Father's Day Tribute

Note: I haven't posted to this blog in 2 years. But, I wanted to share something that I wrote about my Dad and this seemed like the best avenue.

I miss my Dad. I find that everything reminds me of him and as time goes on, things are starting to be more bittersweet. But, I have this empty feeing in my heart and sometimes the sadness overwhelms me.

My brother gave this amazing eulogy at the funeral. I don’t know how he got up there, but he did and I was so proud of him. It’s taken me nearly six months to be able to write my tribute. I wrote the obituary on Christmas Day (https://gateway.frontrunnerpro.com/book-of-memories/1450306/Snell-Roderick/obituary.php) and I found that there was so much more I wanted to say. Needed to say. But, it’s taken me some time to work on it.

The little things I remember about my Dad are actually the biggest things he taught us.

Growing up, we always had records playing. His favorites were Neil Diamond, Janis Joplin, Willie Nelson, Kenny Rogers, Waylon Jennings and The Kingston Trio. My Dad and I would always dance when music was playing on the stereo. I remember when my Dad bought a tape deck recorder (it was a giant stereo component) and started making mixed tapes from his favorite albums. We had a cassette player in our van and on our family road trips, we would listen to his homemade tapes. I can actually picture Rod and I, riding in the van, singing “Forever in Blue Jeans,” “On the Road Again” and “The Gambler.” Several weeks ago, I heard “The Gambler” on the radio in the car and I had to pull over and cry.

I remember going to see “Star Wars” at age 4. My Mom was bored to death, so after that, it was my Dad’s job to take us to cool movies. The last movie I saw with him in the theatre was “Braveheart” on Father’s Day in 1995.

My Dad was fiercely protective of his family, but not overprotective. If we wanted to ride our bikes off of a cliff or jump off the roof into the pool, we always asked my Dad and he always said yes. (OK, maybe a slight exaggeration there.) My Mom always said no to crazy, adventurous things, so we figured out to stop asking her by the time we were 5 or 6.

If someone messed with our family, my Dad brought the full wrath to them. My Dad wasn’t a big guy, but when he was mad, you knew. My Dad always stressed how important family was and how a family always sticks together and supports each other. I suppose that is why he wasn’t mad when I got thrown off the bus in 9^th grade for threatening to kill someone. My Mom had breast cancer when I was in 9^th grade and this girl in the neighborhood was saying all of these horrible, hurtful things about my Mom. I believe my exact words were “If you ever talk about my Mom again, I’ll kill you.” Apparently she believed me.

My Dad strongly believed in owning your mistakes and learning from them. He also taught us to always take responsibility for our actions, which is a lesson unlearned by many of today’s youth. He also believed that being honest was always the best policy.

My Dad taught me to love sports. We always watched NFL games together, even when I was a little girl. He would explain all of the rules to me and we would regularly bet on games. The best part was that I never had to pay up when I lost, but he always paid up when I won. Our favorite sporting event was the annual Michigan-Michigan State football game. We were late to my cousin’s wedding in 1997 because we were watching the game. I don’t know if I’ll ever be able to watch that game again. It won’t be the same without my Dad.

Growing up, I was an awesome softball player. I can still hear my Dad, yelling from the stands “Get your elbow up!” when I was up to bat. He spent countless hours playing catch, hitting grounders to me and throwing pop flys up for me to catch. I was so good, that people who didn’t have a kid on the team would come to watch me play. I know this made my Dad very proud. I also remember him teaching me to play pool when I just 7 years old. He never let me win. Ever. I remember the very first time I beat him. I was 10 years old and earning that victory felt so awesome. I think that was the lesson: The harder you work, the better it feels when you reach your goal.

In 6^th grade, I had this awful science teacher. She was always on my case and essentially picked on me. Granted, I was a bit of a smart ass, but she really made my life miserable. One night, the phone rang at home and it was Mrs. Varchi, the science teacher. And my Dad let her have it! I can still hear him yelling at her. After that, there wasn’t another problem in 6^th grade science.

When I got suspended from school in 9^th grade for starting a food fight, it was my Dad that I called to come and pick me up. Things like that didn’t make him angry. But, bring home a report card full of bad grades and there was hell to pay. Not because it wasn’t OK to not be perfect, but because it wasn’t OK to not try your best. Always. He believed in the theory that if something was worth doing, it was worth doing right. Not applying ourselves was not acceptable.

My Dad was saddled with the very fun task of teaching me to drive a stick shift car. It didn’t help that our neighborhood entrance was on a road very appropriately named Bunker HILL Road. At the end of Bunker Hill Road there was a store, the Holiday Shopper. The Holiday Shopper was what is known as a “party store” in Michigan. The owner of the store was a really funny guy named Daryl. Daryl witnessed my driving lessons in the parking lot and my many attempts to drive up the hill, and promptly nicknamed me “Whiplash.” (It is worth noting that my Dad made me stop on the hill, and then get the car going again, which was quite a jerking and lurching feat.) Unfortunately for me, the nickname stuck. I ran into Daryl once, many years later, when I was about to graduate from college, and he yells “Hey Whiplash!! How ya doing?”  I promptly called my Dad and relayed the exchange and we had a great laugh.

In 10^th grade, I failed to come home one night. Before we had cell phones and caller ID, it was fairly easy to say you were one place when you were in fact, not. Well, my story blew up and it was discovered that I was not where I said I would be. Instead, I was camping with a bunch of friends and my brother and his friends. After driving all over town and knocking on the doors of multiple friends’ houses looking for me, my Dad finally spotted my car behind a party store. He put a note on it that said “GET HOME NOW!” I saw that note and for a few split seconds, I actually contemplated driving off into the sunset and never returning home. That would have been an easier solution, in my adolescent mind. Instead, I drove slowly up the driveway and when I got out of the car, my Dad was standing there, with his hand out. I dropped the keys into his hand and very few words were exchanged. The disappointment in his eyes was enough of a punishment.

When I graduated from high school, I gave the commencement speech and I can still remember looking out into the crowd of 6,000+ people and spotting my parents. My Mom had tears in her eyes and my Dad was just beaming. He told anyone that would listen “That’s my daughter up there!”

When I graduated from Ball State, we had a big party in the front yard of my apartment building. My Mom was very clear when it came to what kind of epic blow-out the party would be: “We are only buying one keg.” Well, seeing how this was Ball State, and I knew a zillion people, the keg was literally gone in a matter of minutes. The keg problem led to this legendary exchange:

Me: “Dad, the keg is dry.”

Dad (with no hesitation): “Here’s my credit card, go get another one!”

And the party raged on. It was appropriate that my college experience ended like this, with my Dad. Only because it had started like this:

A few days into my freshman year, my Dad wrote me a letter. The letter said:

“It is important to never lose sight of the objective. Graduation is the objective. Have a great time along the way. Study hard. Party hard. Graduate.”

I did all 3 things and to this day, I think that is the greatest advice my Dad ever gave me.

When I met Keith, my Dad was thrilled. The two of them were fast friends and I think my Dad secretly hoped we would get married. When Keith called my parents to ask if he could marry me, my Mom answered and Keith asked if he could talk to my Dad. My Mom says “Rod, Keith is on the phone.” And my Dad says “Keith? Keith who?” He was kidding of course, but it gave an already very nervous Keith a near panic attack.

On my wedding day, I was a little (OK, a lot) stressed out. My Dad was this calming presence. We stood outside the church, waiting for our cue to walk in. The doors to the church opened, the trumpet started playing, and my Dad took my hand and said “Here we go!” and in we walked. It was maybe the proudest I had ever seen him in my 27 years. At the reception, we danced to “The Way You Look Tonight,” and he cracked me up the whole time. We always had so much fun dancing together.

The night I found out I was pregnant with Lauren, I called my parents. Only, my Mom wasn’t home and my Dad got to hear the news first. I can still hear him, so excited and saying over and over “Wow! That is so great, Kate!” I think I made him swear not to tell my Mom because she would be so upset if she didn’t hear it from me. He was thrilled and for the next 7 or 8 months, it was all he talked about. He couldn’t wait to be a Grandpa. With Lauren, we didn’t know if we were having a boy or a girl. When she was finally born (after 40 hours of labor!!), Keith called my parents to announce she had arrived and the grandparent adventure began. It is also worth noting that my Dad finally got a mini-me, as Lauren has looked exactly like him since the moment she arrived. She was blessed with the same big, clear blue beautiful eyes and every time I look in her eyes, I see my Dad.

My Dad’s office was covered with pictures of Lauren, who was nicknamed “Pumpkin Pie” when she was a few days old. When Lauren was 4 months old, I took her to Louisiana to visit Grammy and Papa. I took her to my Dad’s work and I was walking down the hall, carrying her. One of my Dad’s coworkers, who I had never met, stopped me in the hall and said “Is that Pumpkin Pie?!” She recognized Lauren because my very proud Dad was always showing pictures to everyone. It was so cute and it melted my heart a bit.

When Ryan was born, my Dad was equally thrilled. He loved having a little boy around and he loved teaching Ryan things. Where Lauren looks just like my Dad, Ryan acts just like my Dad. He has the same analytical, engineer-in-training mind. My Dad would always say “Ryan has the knack.” He was referring to the famous Dilbert cartoon. Google it if you’ve never seen it; it's hilarious.

I don’t know if a little boy has ever loved his Papa as much as Ryan loved his. Ryan loved every minute he spent with my Dad and I know the feeling was mutual. I think knowing that my Dad won’t get to see these 2 amazing kids grow up is what makes my heart hurt the most.

When someone you love dies, there are so many things you ask yourself: “Did he know how much I loved him?” “Did I tell him how lucky I am to have him for my Dad?” “Did he realize that everything I am is because of him?” I like to think that he knew all of these things. I really wished I would have thanked him more. Thanked him for all that he gave me and taught me. Thanked him for working so hard and providing for our family. Thanked him for the opportunities he gave me and the important decisions he helped me make.

There is one thing that I definitely know: My Dad wouldn’t want us all to be sad. He would want us to have happy memories and live our lives in a way that would make him proud. I know that he’s always with me. I feel him watching over us and I can actually see him shaking his head at me, when I’m freaking about something.

Losing my Dad made me see how precious time is.  It also made me realize what matters and what doesn’t. I’ve definitely had some challenges this year and so may times I’ve heard my Dad’s voice in my head saying “To hell with them!” And so often he was right. I also remember him telling me this once:

“Good times don’t define who you are. It’s the bad times, and how you respond to them, that show you what you’re made of and define who you are.” Well, I’ve definitely learned a lot about myself over the last 6 months. Looking back, it’s been the most difficult time of my life and I think I’ve responded to the challenges in a way that would make him proud.

So, Happy Father’s Day, Dad. Thanks for being the world’s greatest Dad. You are so missed by all who knew you and especially by your family. I made you a promise in the hospital that I would always take care of Mom and I think you know that I’m doing my best. I will continue to live my life in a way that would make you proud and I will continue to teach Lauren and Ryan the same values you taught me. Your legacy will always live on. I would give anything to share one more beer with you, to clank the bottles together, and say “Cheers” and see your big, warm smile. Rest in peace, today and always.