Rugby, school kids, meaning...

"If we are to go forward, we must go back 

and rediscover those precious values - 

that... [hinge] on moral foundations..."

- Martin Luther King

“Ladies and gentlemen, I give you the pride of our nation, winners of the Rugby World Cup…The New Zealand All Blacks!!!”

The words of the Mayor of Wellington as the team arrived for post victory celebrations.

These men, all-stars from provincial leagues all over the country had won the cup by one point.  It could not have been sweeter, for not only did the All Blacks win for New Zealand; they did it in Wellington with the eyes of the world focused on them. 

The tradition, so hard to explain to those unfamiliar with the game, the work, the dedication, the focus, the values…all of them came together that day for 4million New Zealanders needing every bit of this tradition for their country.

Earlier that day

“Are these your children working behind the counter?” I asked.  “Yes,” she said, “They are here in the morning and then go off to school”

There were three youngsters – two girls, one boy – and two adult women.  It was a small breakfast shop just off the harbor, on Victoria Street.  I was hungry from having walked for an hour and a half along the harbor in the chilly and blustery morning air. One of the young girls, dressed in her school uniform, had just taken my order and disappeared into the kitchen.

Coming to town…

I had arrived there the day before and taken a shuttle to the hotel from the airport.  It happened to be at the afternoon school break and children were on their way home in streams and small groups – all wearing uniforms.  At first I thought they were from a private school – most of the boys in light blue shirts, navy shorts with knee socks and black shoes…some in long trousers…many more shorts than trousers on this overcast and windy afternoon.  The girls were in similar tops and matching tartan skirts.  Some, both boys and girls, wearing sweaters against the afternoon chill.

Continuing to the city, I passed two or three other schools, with boys and girls dressed in similar style, but different colors.  These were NOT private schools, but simply traditional colors representing their institutions – for the most part, I later learned, worn proudly.

The morning had been good so far…the walk, a warm breakfast and a small window into New Zealand culture.  The girl at once had a tangible sense of connection to her school, AND was getting a family/business ‘life lesson’ in the importance of responsibility and discipline.

Right place right time…

I had not planned to be here for the celebrations, in truth, I didn’t even know the World Cup was on, or that it was being held in Wellington.  It was France the All Blacks beat by a point on the weekend, and by all accounts, nobody in the country breathed during the last 10 minutes. The team was here to celebrate their victory with the people from whom they themselves had come.  In a country with a population of 4 million, this was not just a big deal…it was an indescribable and intimate moment for both groups.  These men weren’t just a professional team who had provided this small Island country bragging rights…they were family and you could feel it…all these boys known by the people.

School was cancelled for the afternoon and more than one hundred thousand Kiwis filled the streets and the Parliament grounds where the parade would end – one in three Wellingtonians would be attending this event. 

I slipped into the City Center Square with several thousand other folk to see the beginning of the festivities.  When the All Blacks arrived the people exploded into a bedlam of joy…a truly unbridled mass of humanity, in that moment, one with each other…for there is no sport in New Zealand so universally popular as Rugby.

The Mayor of Wellington spoke a few words saying how the team had not only made New Zealand proud of their success, but injected a much needed boost of energy and hope into a City and country that had recently seen the Christ Church earthquake, a large oil spill and hard economic times.  None of that seemed to matter on this day. 

School children – Rugby…all of us

The All Blacks...a team…more yet a tradition around which people gathered - embracing the moment and believing with hope, the boys would be able to repeat again next year.  Satisfied in the moment, but now there would need to be something to look forward to.  To find meaning in life, no matter the medium, looking forward seems to be key.  Whether we recognize it or not, we hunger for something to look forward to. 

Traditions provide ways to look forward.  Some occur at yearly intervals such as religious, political, athletic or social holidays. Others a little more subtle...the institution of marriage, for example, as we seek the stability of a mate.  Even more subtle things such as working daily before school…constancy, expectation with familiarity, things that seem known to us…a way to fit in and feel a part.  These are the things that provide anchors for our lives.

Traditions are important, often acting as bridges to meaning.  That is not to say traditions necessarily bring meaning…but they bring structure.  Repeating known structures help create value systems of loyalty… commitment… dependability… honesty. 

Values are what give life meaning.  Circumstances change, jobs change, uniforms change, team loyalties change, but values that are learned through repetitive events in our lives, seldom do.  We learn the core of these when we are children, and they follow us for our whole lives.

Both ends met

On this chilly day in Wellington, I had the opportunity to see both the early stages of value creation and an end result.  Both had uniforms identifying what they did or where they were educated

The young girl at the breakfast shop, dressed in her school uniform, doing routine work before school, building traditions and creating values of dedication and discipline in her life.

The ‘All Blacks’ winning a championship because of the values of dedication, discipline, hard work, team effort…values they had learned as youngsters when they were growing up.

On the measuring line of life, these values being learned as a youth and exercised as an adult provide a sense of meaning to our lives.

On this chilly and rainy day in Wellington, I was pleased to have the opportunity to see some in the early process and others a little further along, sharing some common values that gave meaning to their lives.

Oh yes, and reminding me, as I see the sun begin to move gently closer toward the distant horizon of life, how values become more than simply ideas we live by…they become close and intimate friends.

- ted

Open the door, or at least consider it...

"I took the road less traveled by, and that made all the difference."

- Frost, R

“I’m okay.  This top and bottom will wick water away from my body.” 

It didn’t seem to matter that she was wearing a sleeveless pink tank top and below the knee black tights.  She had never been to the desert.  She had traveled some in her young life, but Detroit had not prepared her for the heat and barrenness of the Southern California desert in the fall.  I talked her into putting on a light colored long-sleeve shirt and a funky looking wide-brimmed hat to discourage the relentless work the sun performs daily in the desert.

The temperature was over 100F (37.7C) as we started into the canyon in the Anza Borrega Desert.  The hike covered 3 miles (4.8km) along a dry riverbed over moderately rough terrain.  Our goal? An oasis buried in the canyon.  When the rains come, this river wash is filled with treacherous waters collected from the surrounding mountainsides…the occasional large palm tree trunk lay along the way…a testament to nature’s power.

We were carrying a half-gallon (1.9 liters) of water in hydration packs on our backs, but a Desert Police Officer we met near the trail head suggested we go back to town and pick up another half gallon each. 

“This hike is going to take you more than two hours,” she said.  “You’re starting late; it will be hot.  Go get a little more water.”  So we did.

The unguarded moment…

“Hi, my name is Joanna,” came an unfamiliar voice on the phone. 

“I’m a friend of Scott’s. We met a few months ago at a Detroit Shock (women’s professional team) basketball game.  Would you be interested in acting as a mentor for me?”

“I don’t know,” I said, caught a little off-guard. “Why don’t we grab a cup of coffee and see what happens.”

In truth, I couldn’t remember meeting her.

An brief interlude…

Scott S. was a young man who came into my life through a colleague from Longwood, Florida – near Orlando.  Scott was head strength coach for one of the universities in Detroit, and was an unusual young man…unusual because after college, he dedicated nearly a decade of his life to self-education. 

By the time we met, he had read over 3,000 books on motivation and philosophy.  He had watched countless movies and videos about the lives of successful athletes and other social notables. He kept diligent notes, copying sayings and success stories creating a formidable library.  We resonated and met bi-monthly for coffee early on Saturday mornings.  On one Saturday he told me he was going to leave the university for a position in Tampa, Florida…I would miss these early morning meetings.

Coffee no – tea yes…

Joanna and I agreed on a place and a time to see whether we thought we might be able to dance a little.  We met and scoped each other out.  It didn’t take much time before we both knew this would not be our first/last meeting.  There was just something about her that was, well, compelling. 

And so bi-weekly meetings began at an Einstein’s Bagel shop that lasted…well, except in recent years for time intervals, and change of location (I now live in San Diego)…it hasn’t stopped.  There were a few notable differences: Drink: coffee (me) – tea; Age: 60 – 23; Gender: male – female; Race: Caucasian – African American…but whose counting...

I’ve mentored a number of people over the years, but few like Joanna.  It was clear from the start she was very bright, but was also passionate…engaged…eager …focused and hungry to absorb everything she could.  It was clear that in her mind failure in life was NOT an option, and she was on a deliberate life journey to gather whatever tools it took to succeed.

When Molly and I moved out West, Joanna and I remained in contact as she finished her Masters in Business Administration and hunted relentlessly for work in a city where the automobile industry had dominated everything.  The recession wounded Detroit badly, but she knew if given a chance, there would be no stopping her.

Let’s see, where were we…

Oh yes, the desert!  The hike ended up being excellent…the advice from our officer friend proved valuable…I drank nearly the full gallon of water during the trip into and out of the canyon.  We enjoyed each other’s company the easy way friends do…for my mentoring capacity had been drained.  Now it was just ‘us.’ 

This hike was an oddly crafted and a reflection of the rare gift of our friendship.  On the way in, as we came around a large rock there stood a male Bighorn sheep ram…alone and majestically regal – a sight not often seen…a metaphor for the character of connection this young woman and I had forged over coffee and tea in summer and winter in Detroit.

A little reflection…

This was Joanna’s third visit with us in California, and it would be the last for a while.  She got that entry level job as a buyer for a large diesel engine company owned by Daimler in Germany, and after a little more than two years on the job has been promoted to senior buyer and will move to Germany for three years at corporate offices.

 

There are few things in life that give one greater pleasure than friendships.  They begin because people find something good in one another…something that resonates …something that is timeless…something is not clearly describable – ageless, race-less, and yes even drink-less (coffee/tea).

When that call comes from an unfamiliar voice, as many have for all of us, take a moment to consider it.  One never knows, as it is written, “Be not forgetful to entertain strangers: for thereby some have entertained angels unawares.”

“Hi, my name is Joanna,” came an unfamiliar voice on the phone. 

Yeah, I know now…an angel came into our lives.

- ted

Remembering...

"A man that hath friends must show himself friendly."

- Proverbs 18:24: Bible

“I’m in Los Angeles seeing patients tomorrow and will be back by 4:30PM.  I’ll give you a call.”

That’s the way it ended…not the way it started.

It was a brilliantly sunny afternoon as we looked out over the harbor.  San Diego is a busy port for commerce, military and recreation. Coronado Island, on the Western side contains a Naval base. while the city hugs the Eastern shore.  This October day helicopters, propeller driven fixed wing and jet aircraft cut their way through clear blue afternoon skies.  A small Naval Cruiser powered its way home toward the Port after maneuvers, accompanied by any number of small sail boats coming and going on this warm Autumn’s day.

Our vantage point was Point Loma, a finger of land that lies on the Southwestern point of the seaward entrance.  When standing by the statue of Juan Rodríguez Cabrillo, the Portuguese adventurer who first discovered this natural protectorate…one sees the Port of San Diego to the left and to the right the distant horizons of the Pacific Ocean… from the concreteness of the city on one side to the ‘mysterious and unknown waters’ on the other.

The loss…

In spite of the beautiful setting, we had not come for the view.  A different reason had brought us here this sunny day day.  A quarter of a mile from the ‘Point’ is another landmark – The Roscrans National Cemetery where thousands of military veteran’s remains “…rest in peace.”  Acres of neatly rowed headstones, lush green and freshly mown grass represented the reality of men and women who had given part, and for some, their all to protect a way of life unique in this troubled world.

Some were born in the in the late 1800s serving in the World Wars I,II and Korea.  Others came later…finding themselves in Vietnam or the Middle Eastern conflicts of Iraq and Afghanistan.  The common thread?  A commitment to offer something of themselves for the gifts they had received.

While we were mindful of this, Scott and I had not come to honor the men and women who had committed and sacrificed for our country.  We surely appreciated their service, but we had come to visit the resting place of just one – our friend Vert. 

Vert had served in the military qualifying him for this resting place…Vert had influenced his profession as few others…Vert had for some unknown and possibly cosmic reason taken us under his wing…Vert, had taken a one-way ticket to work that Southern Californian morning and slipped away this date two years earlier in an unexpected car crash…robbing us of our friend and mentor…his influence expressed thoughtfully in these words:

“…therefore, in the intimacy existing between friends…the superior should put himself on the level with his inferior, so the latter ought not to grieve that he is surpassed by the former in intellect, fortune, or position”

–       Cicero M, De Amicitia

(On Friendship)

There was little doubt he surpassed all of us, but in action conveyed the meaning of Cicero’s words.

And then he was gone…

The timing, the abruptness, the ragged tearing of a fabric that somehow had seemed invincible, was unkind.  He had given us much from his storehouse of knowledge and wisdom and thoughtfulness, yet there was more…he gave of himself – the gift of his gentleness, and faith, and understanding and yes, his love.  His real investment timeless – for there is little doubt the intimate touch of the human spirit has no time.

That’s the thing about death isn’t it?  Quickly, with unexpected suddenness or painfully slow, it seems to lack mercy – for those who remain.  If we have been touched by another’s spirit, the loss somehow shakes us deeply, in places we do not understand, nor can we adequately express.  So it had been with Vert – in this case abrupt…unexpected…seemingly out of place…painfully real. 

Reflection takes many paths…

It was this quiet and intimate time two friends, so profoundly influenced by this man, agreed to meet…clearing schedules to touch a little shared and common ground…and so we did…so we did.

One would think that in moments like this the conversation would have drifted to the many times with and lessons learned from Vert – Scott surely more than I. 

Vert was, of little doubt, a giant in the field to which he had dedicated his life.  There is little in the shaping of the world of spinal care that was not influenced by his thought process and prolific writing…and yet we spoke little of this. 

We chatted quietly about family…some about the day and the beautiful site into which his remains had been interred…how the compass of our lives had been changed as a result of his influence.  Maybe we were really hoping we had become the men that Vert saw, invested and expected of us…preparing to pass our lives on to others as he so selflessly had done for us.

Words aren’t really needed

There is something reverent in the intimate pathways of lives that intersect…a sacredness difficult to put into words.  At this ‘place’ quiet expressions and brief glances carry with them a ‘knowing’ that the even most elegant vocabulary could not manage.   So it was in this instance.  The proximity of two friends for this time, on this day, was sufficient…we ‘knew’ and that was enough. 

In truth it is never about the moments, the events, or the experiences we share with one an other but the spirit that touches us so deeply…the experiences, the events and moments together with Vert provided the vehicle through which a deeper partaking had occurred.

Gratitude cultivates humility…

Mostly, we gave each other a mutual permission – with an undercurrent of common knowledge and experience that did not need words.  We invested our spirit into each other, in some unspoken way, knowing that when our time came words would not be enough to express what we had meant to each other.

Being together on this day in this place was enough to once more quietly mourn our loss and celebrate his life.

Even in death, his life continues to influence and resonate.

Isn’t this the way it ought to be?

- ted

Today is as good as it gets…

“It’s difficult facing a loss, particularly when it happens slowly.

 The mourning comes in the most fatiguing of waves.”

- Anonymous

We decided that dinner would be a good thing, so out we went…the three of us, each with a different role.  There were a number of relationships amongst the three – a daughter and niece…a brother and uncle…a mother and sister; in a word a small family.

It is difficult to know what to say, because complexity does not lend itself to simple and clear sentences.  Her new gerontologist set the context, “Today, this moment, is the best that she will be for the rest of her life.   You will never see her this good again,” meaning each new day will be a little less functional than the day before – carpe diem!

In this situation, there is not a measure, like a ruler or weigh scale. Nor is there a predictive formula into which one can plug numbers to determine how quickly the disease will run its course…like an airplane with no instruments, the order of the day – fly by the seat of your pants.

You have heard the expression “…good is the enemy of great…” meaning that if one settles for good, they may never be great.  In this game, “…expectation and hope are the enemies of love…” meaning expectation and hope will keep one from full acceptance, and therefore the simple and overwhelming power of complete, open, total and selfless love.  You know the kind your dog or cat feels toward you…they don’t care what you look like, they don’t care about your status, or income, or education, or clothing…no, they just come to you for what they feel…that kind of love!

Selfless love…truly selfless anything is a hard nut to crack in life.  It is not that everyone is personally selfish in most things…some of us are socially selfish, meaning we do things for the greater good because we get some sort of reward from it.  It doesn’t always have to be an open reward, but if we are honest in our hearts, there is expectation of reward – open or subtle…healthy or not – that drives the action.

Selfless love requires complete surrender and that is a hard thing to do…it requires letting go of any sense of embarrassment, shame, expectation and/or desire to somehow shape the event.  The confession? In my life, there has been little more difficult!

A pragmatic consideration…

If you want to remain sane as you live with and/or in proximity to a loved one with Alzheimer’s – eliminate expectation and hope…in truth, they will eat you alive.  They are not helpful...for as surely as gravity ‘is,’ this disease is irreversible.

It is good to have hope and expectation there will be some successes in the world of clinical research that will spare the loved ones of others in the future, but right now…this day…in this moment, there is nothing that actually works.  The internal conversation?  Deal with it and move on!

There must be something…

It is easy to fall into the mindset that junk science, or no science, or home remedies that worked for a cousin twice removed…actually did work – you know, somewhere else.  It always seems to work somewhere else.  Hope and expectation with this disease is like trying to reach out and touch the horizon.  You can see it, yet the faster you approach it, the faster it moves away.  The maddening thing…fast or slow…the horizon knows your speed and remains just out of reach.

The human mind is not geared for failure…it doesn’t accept it well.  Brilliant, mediocre or slow of thought…barring some disease or defect, and until near the end of our life’s journey, the human condition is to overcome, question and then do it again in ever expanding circles.  Growth is an inevitable trait of life.  The idea of entering the arena and surrendering ‘just because’ is really unthinkable.

We are built to solve the problem, take the next step, get up when we fall, live to fight another day.  This is why it is so difficult to come to terms with the reality of an irreversible debilitating disease.

The sequence of denial…

Any port in storm…any thought process that does not confront the possibility of her slipping away from reality into the dungeons of lost thought.  

It must be:

·      Stress,

·      fatigue,

·      poor diet, or

·      lack of exercise.

Her behavior must simply be stress related.  The workload has been just too much.  She always performed at a high level, but sometimes we just can’t run and keep up the pace…maybe it’s just caught up with her.  Maybe a little ‘talk therapy,’ or vacation.  Why, it is just what the doctor ordered…yes that’s it.  Let’s suggest to her a break from work and a little counseling.  That will do it!

It did not!

On the other hand, if one were really fatigued, a short break from work would probably not be enough…a little longer break to get really rested up. The fatigue scenario plays right into the stress consequence.  Yep, kill two birds with one stone.  A break from work, maybe a little talk therapy and rest…what a great combination.  Now we will get somewhere.

We got nowhere!

When the simplest ideas fail, it is only because, we tell ourselves, we really didn’t consider the behavior changes might need a little deeper look.  Oh that’s it…diet.  Why didn’t we think about his earlier??  Good nutrition is really important!  Maybe by living alone she wasn’t eating well.  You know how difficult it is to cook for one.  Yep, let’s get one of those supplemental food programs where they send you power packed meals with all the important nutrients and then some. Good nutrition!  How could we have overlooked food?  That should help to settle things.

It settled nothing!!

Wait a minute…wait just one cotton-picking minute!  What were we thinking?  You can’t just provide good nutrition, you need to add the universal medicine…the medicine that is good for obesity, heart disease, chronic musculoskeletal problems, arthritis, and oh my God, it’s good for stress, helps with fatigue, works tremendously with good nutrition – Exercise!!

It was so simple, it almost got away from us, because, well, it is under appreciated and so…so common.  Of course, one has to do it to get the benefit, so we put on our cheerleader outfits and extolled to our loved one that a little exercise would be helpful.

It was no help!

The truth?? You can’t handle the truth!!!

All of this, of course, is a little more complicated when one can’t admit, the person with the “you know what” might possibly have “you know what.” You don’t even want to say the word, because…well because…because – oh, you know why! 

No, in fact you don’t!  You don’t want to say it because you don’t want to believe this thief could so completely violate the person you love…you don’t want to believe that ALZHEIMER’S – there I said it – could possibly happen to her!  Why, it would be unthinkable…it would be unfair…it would be unjust! 

The truth will set you free…

There comes a day when you realize the only person you were trying to convince there was a solution to the unsolvable, was yourself.  It is then and only then the real problem can be accepted, and yes – unapologetically and lovingly embraced.

So the three of us sat in the restaurant, and we fed my sister the first meal where she needed assistance to eat.  We forked the hamburger pieces and spooned the hot ‘fudge sundae’ milkshake to her trembling lips…and did it with sheer unadulterated joy.  We participated as a family appreciating one another and in a public place I would never, in my quietest reflective moments, have thought I could do.

“There were a number of relationships amongst the three – a daughter and niece…a brother and uncle…a mother and sister; in a word a small family.” 

Oh, and one more thing between the three…pure unadulterated, selfless love.

- ted

Speed may not kill, but can teach...

"Now, here, you see, it takes all the running you can do, to keep in the same place.

If you want to get somewhere else, you must run at least twice as fast as that!"

- The Queen of Hearts: Through the Looking Glass

“Can I go ahead of him?”

She was young and in a hurry…giving off the sense that if she got through faster, her flight would leave earlier.  It wasn’t that there was really anyone else in the security line at the moment…we were the only two…she certainly wasn’t asking me.

Learning to fly…

I’m a pretty frequent flyer and have learned one should ready ‘before’ getting in the final security line…so in fact I had everything except my bag on the table ready to go through.  If there is not a hold up of some kind, I can get my things on the table and the x-ray belt in a little under a minute.  There are two great teachers in the world of frequent flying: Missing a flight because enough time getting to the airport was not allotted, AND miscalculating the length of lines at security checkpoints.  Fewer lessons in this world are more dearly learned than missing a flight for one of these reasons!

Be prepared…

There are a few small things you learn when traveling, and in particular about the security systems through which we all now pass.  Being ready is an enormous stress reliever and requires a little deliberate preparation.  It means either having slip on shoes or laces undone ahead of time…it means getting the laptop out of the case and having it in hand before taking the personal item bin…it means putting metal objects, phones, earphones, belts and anything that might set off an alarm, into your laptop bag or carryon prior to getting in line.  All of these little things add up to getting into and through security a little…sometimes a lot…less painfully.

Most airports have multiple final lines leading through x-ray and the final visual check.  If time is truly a concern, avoid getting in line behind parents with small children or babies.  These people tend not to travel much, and as such don’t think about what they will have to take off, put away or take out of their baggage in order to get through security.  Also, it serves one well to avoid getting behind elderly couples, for often they are a little slower, and sometimes get into brief, and interestingly combative conversations as to which of them is holding the other up in line!

So here we were

It seemed, my young friend must have viewed me as one of those people in the category of elderly.  With nary a nod or a yea from the security folk (or me), she jumped ahead, tossed her things on the x-ray belt and prepared to walk through the final check!  In fact, she didn’t even excuse herself…kind of like I wasn’t really there…THE NERVE!!

The next moments were interesting as this young woman revealed herself to be an unseasoned traveler.  She moved in front of the sensor gate and received the ‘go ahead’.  This is where karma and the universe intervened.  As she stepped through the alarm went off.  It was her belt – by now my things were on the moving through x-ray and I was waiting for her to take off the belt and queue back up to the portal…I waited as she went through a second time only to find the alarm going off again.  While she came back out I went through and picked up my things.

By now, she was irritated and a bit chagrined, but for me this was becoming a little entertaining.  I had time, so after retrieving all of my things and putting them back where they would remain for my journey, I hung around ‘rearranging’ my laptop bag.

The girl, it turned out was wearing something in or under her clothing that required a pat down.  I didn’t want to appear to be a deliberate audience, so I turned my head a little to keep her in my peripheral vision and just listened.  It seemed there was some metal wiring in the one of her undergarments setting off the alarm. 

From the time this young woman got into line behind me – for what should have been no longer than a 30 to 45 second pass through – 10 minutes expired and seven or eight additional people arrived and moved through the line.

Ah the universe, you’ve got to love it.  The only thing that tempered a mild sense of satisfaction was the memory of any number of times in my life where impatience bred inattention…which led to repeating a task when it wasn’t necessary.  You know the sayings, “There’s never enough time to do it right the first time but always enough time to do it over,” or “…measure twice cut once…”

While I had quiet smile about the incident and the number of times I had been in her place, I wondered if it was a teaching moment for her.  Glancing at her face, during the pat down, there seemed a combination of anger and maybe a little humiliation.  I did not get the sense she saw this as anything other than a royal inconvenience…surely not a broader teaching moment.

Two ships passing…

The girl was not on my flight, so I never saw her again, but was reminded that no matter the circumstances, we only have control over the thoughts about them.  Disrespected or entertained?  That is pretty much what it came down to. 

During the times in my life when I have had (been provided?) uncomfortable and sometimes embarrassing ‘teaching moments,’ – there have been many – I am clear about one thing.  They did not seem educational…it could be argued I needed an over abundance of them to yield the benefit…you know, practice, practice, practice. In was nice to see this situation as entertainment and not offense.  It was one of those moments reminding me I am grateful for the small lessons I have actually learned.

The rest of my journey went exceedingly well…I hope hers did too.

- ted