It was sometime around my freshman year of college when I got the call. I still remember it to this day.
Cute as a button and small as a purse, Ginger was a scampering, yipping puff of hair. She was a tiny black Pomeranian, which is classified as a toy dog breed because they're small like children's toys.
Our cousins gave her to us, back when she could fit in a mug. They called her Cookie, because she loved cookies. My Mom carried her home in her purse.
I'm sitting in a Barnes & Noble right now. As usual. Next to me are a father and son, sitting at a table and reading quietly.
The boy looks young; maybe first or second grade? The father looks pretty young too; maybe only a few years older than me.
Then the thought struck me: I totally want to be a father who brings his kid to Barnes & Noble too.
"God, grant me the courage to change that which I can, the serenity to accept that which I cannot, and the wisdom to know the difference."
- Serenity Prayer
I find that each new year is usually better than the last. Which runs contrary to the beliefs of the Good Ole' Days. Or that your college years were the best years of your life. Or that childhood was a magically warm and fuzzy time.
Not that I'm saying those beliefs are false. Childhood was definitely warm and fuzzy. I had Puff the Magic Dragon, kids nowadays have Harry Potter. Both were and are totally real to children.
But, for me, I believe the best years are yet to come.
"Tell your mother I said, 'Word'."
- J. Byrum
If you don't have your word, you have nothing. Your word is your honor. Your integrity. You.
"Why'd you quit your job?" Tim asked.
With a glass of Macallan in my hand, I answered, "To stay true to my word."
Weekly random rambles, musings & writings of Mike Lee in San Francisco, CA