The wildfires in California are devastating. People are losing their homes and their valuables. Some are losing their lives. I live in Florida, far from California. There is no threat of those fires expanding to my community, yet I truly understand what that loss feels like.
In 2013, my family and I were preparing to move from Gainesville, FL to Seattle, WA as I had been recruited and hired to be the new President and CEO of the Jewish Federation of Greater Seattle. It was a big move with lots of nerves, fear, and concern for all of us. We were literally moving completely across the country. My wife and kids had never not lived close to family and now we were moving nearly 3,000 miles away.
This was a big new job in a new community for me. Alison, my wife, had one friend who lived there and my kids knew nobody. It was exciting and scary at the same time. We packed up our house, the movers took our belongings away, and we moved into my in-laws house for a few days. I was leaving a few days before my family to get things set up, move into our rental home, pick up our dog at the airport and then get the family a few days later. Everything was set up for this big change in our lives.
As I prepared to head to the airport in a rental car (our cars had been shipped already), my phone rang. It was the moving company. They told me that there had been a fire in our moving truck and it was a complete loss. Everything we owned that was on that truck was lost. My face dropped. I didn’t know what to do. For a minute I thought I was being pranked, I hoped and prayed I was being pranked, but I wasn’t. I told Alison and she was stunned. How do you comprehend losing all your belongings like that. Your memories. Your photos as a child, with your grandparents, your children as babies, your ketubah (marriage certificate) and so much more.
I headed to the airport in shock, talking to Alison on the phone the entire time. I called Delta, told them what happened, and they changed my flight to a day later. I called my new board chair and shared the news with her. She was shocked. Using humor to deflect my feelings, I said to her, “Well, at least we don’t have to unpack.”
When I got back to my in-laws house, we spoke to the moving company again and they said we could come to the facility in Jacksonville where the truck was and salvage anything that we wanted. Still in shock, Alison and I drove to Jacksonville, depressed at what we were going to see.
When we arrived, they told us what happened. The truck hadn’t left the yard yet. There was an issue with the truck that needed to be fixed before they could send it to Seattle. The way to fix it involved using a blowtorch. Their standard operating procedure is to removed everything from the truck, then use the blowtorch to fix it, and then reload the truck. The person who was fixing it decided he didn’t want to do that and just tried to fix it with all our belonging still on the truck. Something caught fire, the truck went up in flames, they rushed to put it out, but the fire, smoke, and water ruined our belongings. Later, I reached out to a few attornies about a lawsuit since they didn’t follow their procedures and I learned that they are only liable for the loss. Not for anything else. I learned that sentimental things have no value other than replacement of them. Things that were handed down from my grandfathers would be worth pennies because they were old things that could easily replaced. A lesson learned.
We were both fuming as we walked to the area where the truck and our belongings were. You could smell the smoke well before we got there. The sight was devastating. Boxes were charred and wet. Furniture burned. We slowly approached the area, tears in our eyes, and began to go through the boxes.
Then something amazing happened. We opened a wet and charred box and found our ketubah in it, in perfect condition. We opened another wet and charred box and found our wedding album along with other picture albums from our childhoods. We found our children’s professional pictures when they were 4 and 2 perfectly safe. We looked around as our furniture, clothes, and everything that could be replaced with money was damaged and lost and realized that things that really mattered to us were not. The collage from our wedding reception was fine. My autographed sports memorabilia that I got personally, signed to me, was fine. The things my grandfather and Alison’s grandfather did special for us, were fine. My grandfather had the newspapers from the 4 days leading up to Nixon’s resignation and the day that FDR died. They mean the world to me because they connect me to him, long after he died. They were all fine. Our hearts warmed quickly and were filled with gratitude. Yes, we lost all our material possessions and would have to get everything new. Yet the things that truly mattered to us, the things that were irreplaceable, were saved.
This was my proof that God exists. There was no reason for these things to be saved. They weren’t in a part of the truck that wasn’t burned. Our ketubah and Alison’s bridal portrait were in boxes that were behind the couch that burned up. The things that mattered the most were mixed with everything that was a complete loss. There was no reason for them to be saved and in great condition other than God.
As we see what is happening in Calfornia with the fire and loss of homes, I think back to when we lost everything we owned. When people reached out, wanting to donate money to help us, we declined. Why did we decline? We had insurance on our items and they could be replaced. We thought we had enough insurance but eventually learned that replacing EVERYTHING you own is much more expensive than you think. We told people that most importantly, nobody was hurt. We still had a place to live and material things are not important compared to being healthy.
I feel for the people who have lost their homes and their possessions. I have been there with the possessions and was grateful it was just possessions and not my house. I was lucky that the things that couldn’t be replaced were saved. The people in California don’t have that luck. Houses and possessions can be replaced. It will be an inconvenience. It will be frustrating. It’s not something anybody would want to go through. For those who lost their lives, they can’t be replaced. For those who lost their material possessions, all that can, and will, be replaced.
After losing our material possessions in 2013, I found myself grateful. Grateful that we were safe and it was just things. Grateful we had insurance, which covered about 85% of the cost of replacing everything. I was incredibly grateful that the things that couldn’t be replaced were saved. It reminded me of my priorities. It reminded me that material things are just that – things. We may like them and enjoy them, but they are just things. There are many things far more important.
I hope that those going through this awful time of loss, of devastation, and in a time when they are in shock, the same way I was in shock after hearing the news, come to the same realization. Their homes will be rebuilt. They will buy new clothes and new furniture. They can buy new art for the walls, new rugs for the floors, new towels and sheets, and appliances. There are many things that are irreplaceable. Possessions are not among them.
I found great comfort in this realization. I hope those dealing with it in California find the same comfort. Having lost all my possessions in 2013, I know what is really important. I would gladly go through it all over again to ensure my health and the health of my loved ones. Possessions are temporary and unimportant. Our lives and the lives of our loved ones are what matters. Health and happiness. Let the pain those in California are going through be a lesson to us all about what really matters in life. I know it’s a reminder for me.
Me walking through the fire damage of our belongingsInside the moving van where the fire occurred.
As we begin 2025, I have found myself much more reflective than normal. For me, the end of a year is usually more future focused than reflective. I tend to look at what the upcoming year may bring and the opportunities that lie ahead rather than looking back at what happened and can’t be changed. I am not sure what is different this year but it definitely is different.
The past four years have been filled with incredible challenges and learning experiences. From dealing with the challenges and stress of Covid, especially when I was running an organization with almost 150 employees depending on me, to health challenges that at one point indicated potential major surgery, life was challenging. 2022 is the year that my dad died, a truly transformative event in my life. We were very close and there isn’t a day that goes by that I don’t think of him and miss him. I had a major career change and recently had another health scare that thankfully turned out to not be anything serious. I’ve had friends die and seeing people my age or slightly older die has shown me the reality that there is far more time behind me than ahead of me. My oldest son has begun his career and no longer lives close by. My youngest son is graduating college in May. As I prepare for 2025, it is clear that all these things have made me more reflective than ever before.
As we approach the start of 2025, I find myself thinking about what really matters to me. What is it that I really want? What is it that I really value? Who do I want in my life? How do I want to spend my time? Who do I want to invest my most precious commodity, my time, with? I recently found old picture albums and boxes with pictures in them. As I look back at my college pictures, it doesn’t seem that long ago, yet it also seems forever ago. My 40th High School reunion is in 2025 and as I look at those pictures, it feels like yesterday while also feeling like it was lived by a different person. Perhaps it’s that stage of life, approaching 60, my youngest graduating college, watching nieces and nephews get married and have children, that is causing this.
It is actually a wonderful place to be. Challenging for sure, but also wonderful.
What does matter to me? Over the past few years I have clarified things and been much more focused. Here is my list as we start 2025.
Health. Without health we have nothing. I remember hearing this from my grandparents as a child and not appreciating it. Over the past few years, I have had some health challenges and understand it. My father had health challenges and then died in 2022. I recently had a friend die of a heart attack while he slept. I’ve seen far too many people my age or close to my age struggle with health issues and many pass away. Health matters. That means taking care of myself in ways I never would have before. It means being grateful for every day I wake up and am not struggling with a health issue. It’s being grateful for the health of my family and my friends. At the end of the day, health matters the most because no matter what else I have, if I don’t have my health, I really have nothing.
Family. I grew up being taught about the importance of family. Not just immediate family, but family by blood and by choice. In my family, I have brothers and sisters, both by blood (one of each) and by choice (2 of each). I have cousins that I am close with that are not your typical first cousins. I have aunts and uncles that are defined that way by the dictionary and those that are defined that way by their actions. I recently was talking to my aunt and uncle (who technically would be cousins) and I said to them point blank, “You are my aunt and uncle. You always have been and always will be.”. Family matters. Family shows up. Family is so much more than just blood. I got a note from my ‘brother’ on New Year’s Eve that touched my heart deeply. He talked about how our friendship that began more than 35 years ago has changed his life. I told him it changed mine as well. He has been, and always will be, my brother. His mom was my mom. His aunt and uncle were my aunt and uncle. My parents were his parents. I’m known as ‘Uncle K’ to his kids. He is Uncle Aric to mine. You can replace most things in life but you can’t replace family.
Basic needs. I grew up in the 70s and 80s. Gordon Gecko and ‘Greed is Good’. Yuppies and the desire for material things. Madonna and ‘Material Girl’. More was always better. In my life today, more is not better. I find myself wanting less. I want to make sure I have clothes, shelter, and food. While I have a nice car, it’s not something that I ‘need’ and look forwad to when I get a different one and getting one that is a ‘step down’. I find that material things are not what drives me nor do I find myself ‘wanting’ many things. I’d rather get a call and a happy birthday wish than a gift. For Hanukkah this year, being together as a family and lighting candles together was so much more than any material gift. I am actively in the process of moving from ‘wanting less’ to ‘having less’, not because of economics but because things don’t mean much any longer. As I was cleaning out my garage last weekend, I came across some old photo albums. The memories in those pictures meant more to me than any material item. My focus is on my basic needs and the rest isn’t necessary. It no longer adds much value to my life.
Values. This may seem like a strange thing to list here but it is actually one of the most important to me. Who I am, what I stand for matters. The type of person that I am, matters to me. I don’t have to be right all the time. I don’t have to ‘win’ all the time. I appreciate those who help me and I want to do what I can to help others. Not because I will ‘get’ anything from it, other than feeling good because I am doing good. It helps me understand the Jewish value of “Tikkun Olam” in a different way. By being a better person, by having and living my values, by treating people with dignity and respect, by helping others without expectation of anything in return, I get so much. I recently had a friend who has been struggling to find full time employment. We would talk over texts as she shared her frustration with the job market. I kept my eyes open for her and found a variety of opportunities for her to consider. I was there to help and support her. Eventually, I found one that worked out for her – she got a job doing what she loves, in an environment that is positive, and that pays her a salary that she feels is appropriate for her skill level and talent. The fact that she is working for another friend of mine only makes it better, as they both win. What did I get out of it? Nothing material – just feeling good that I was able to help two friends. Values and integrity are everything. They mean far more to me than a paycheck or any material good. I feel good about who I am every day when I wake up and every night when I go to sleep. That is truly priceless.
Time. This has become more important as I have gotten older. We have no control over the time we have on this earth. My cousin, who was my age and like a brother to me, died unexpectedly in 1995. His brother, who I sort of adopted as my little brother, died in 2015. My father died in 2022. My fraternity big brother died in 2013. One of my close friends and I have begun to keep track of our fraternity brothers who have died young. When our time is up, our time is up. It’s what we do with our time that matters. For many years, building my career was a top priority. It meant sacrificing time with my family, with my children, with my parents, because of the demands required to be successful. Many people behave this way. I made the decision that I no longer want that. I don’t want my time defined by work. Just this past year, I went to watch my older son coach college football games three times. I took a crazy day trip to California with my younger son to see the Giants and A’s each play home games before taking the redeye home. I took Brightline with my younger son and his girlfriend to Miami to see the Marlins play and get our SpongeBob Squarepants Marlins jerseys. My wife and I went to Red Rocks to see Carlos Santana in concert. We go to the theater for Broadway shows, we travel to watch the UFC fights, spending money to get good seats and have a memorable experience. I spend a good amount of time in Israel in 2024 with trips in May, July, and September. I meet my mom in Lakeland, halfway between us, for lunch or dinner. Time is a commodity. How we choose to use it is up to us. I spent enough time devoted to my career. While I still spend plenty of time working and on my career, I value family and time spent in meaningful ways much more than extra money, a bigger professional role, or a big title. My priorities have shifted.
Friends. Throughout my career and my life, I have made a lot of friends. What I have learned is that many people who we call friends are merely acquaintences. They are people who are there in the good times, who are there when you can give them something, and are there when it benefits them. Real friends show up during the difficult times. Real friends show up when it is inconvenient for them but you need them. Real friends don’t care what others think. Over the past few years, I have had the opportunity to learn who my real friends are. I have seen people that I thought were friends simply not show up. Not reach out. I have seen people show up and show that they are real friends who I didn’t expect would show up. I do things differently now. I make sure to check in with my friends, not matter where they live. I do it not because of what they can do for me but because I value them in my life. A few months ago, I started having lunch with a group of guys on Friday. They are all 80+ so I bring the demographic down signficantly. I love these lunches. I enjoy the company, the conversation, the things I learn from them. While some of them I have known for years, others are new friends. I do my best not to miss those lunches because I value their company. I learn from them. I can honestly say that if any of them needed something, I would be there for them. I reach out to friends that I know are struggling with things in life, just to be a voice telling them that I’m here and I care. I have learned how important active friendship is and make sure to be an active friend.
Spirituality. While I would not call myself a very religious person, I am a very spiritual person. I pray and meditate every morning and have for over 30 years. I like learning with a Rabbi (I have two that I do it with) because it helps me connect with God in different ways and helps me be a better human being. I enjoy rituals like putting on tefillin, singing Acheinu every day until the hostages are released, lighting the menorah, eating apples and honey, and cooking for holiday meals as if 40 people are showing up even when it’s just 4-6. These are things than bring me joy. My connection to God brings me joy. My Jewish identity brings me joy. These things actually make my life both simpler and fuller. I have found that nothing in life happens by accident. There is a divine force behind it all – I may not see or appreciate it for a while, but it is there. I am who I am today because of my life experiences. The ones that I loved and the ones that I would not have chosen. I know that God always takes care of me in the long run, even if the short run is uncomfortable and not what I would have chosen on my own. It is why I say thank you every morning for whatever the day may bring me. If it was up to me, I would always choose the easier option. This would inhibit my growth as a human being. This would limit me. Instead, I get the gift of opportunity to grow and experience life. I’ll take that every time. I love my spirituality and spiritual connection. It brings me great joy and meaning. It is a path I encourage everybody to follow, wherever it may take them. Each of our paths are different and I hope you follow yours. I’m going to keep following mine.
One of my favorite books by my spiritual advisor for the past 27 years
Speaking of friends, one of mine recently turned 24 (as you can tell, I have friends in their 20s and in their 80s, I’m an equal opportunity friend when it comes to age). For her 24th birthday, she listed 24 life lessons she has learned. It is an impressive list and one I look at very differently now than I would have at 24. It’s amazing how life experiences change the way we see the same exact things. Here is her list:
1. Life means nothing without the people you love around you 2. Chase your dreams everyday – life is not to be lived waiting around 3. Purpose mixed with passion will take you places in life 4. It’s okay to f*** up – we all do – that’s how you learn 5. Not everything is for everyone, and that’s okay 6. Workout before making a big or impulsive decision – you will always have a different perspective after 7. If you don’t ask, you’ll never get 8. Be comfortable being uncomfortable – that’s where growth happens 9. Everyone has their own way of doing things, there is no 1 way to do it, find your way to make it work 10. Learn something from everyone you speak too – advice is not always meant to tell you what to do, sometimes it’s to show you what not to do 11. Two things can be true at the same time…. 12. Happiness comes from doing things that you joy 13. Dare to be wrong in life, it’s always a lesson and a good story 14. If something won’t matter in 5 hours, 5 days or even 5 years – everything will be alright 15. You create memories everyday, make them memories with people you love 16. Being comfortable with yourself is the biggest gift you can give yourself 17. Ask questions always – don’t be afraid to feel stupid 18. People want to be around people doing good things for this world and making a difference 19. Life is not about you – it’s about the people you touch 20. You never know how something may affect someone else, good or bad 21. Do the difficult thing. Say the hard thing… whats the worst that can happen? 22. You don’t owe anyone your time or energy – it’s precious, hold on to it tight 23. Growth is a process – be patient with yourself – it doesn’t happen over night 24. Appreciate the moment because you will look back at the ‘good ole times’ and miss being here
As we move into 2025, I encourage you to take a look at your life. Ask yourself what really matters to you. Then act on what matters to you. Society tells us all sorts of things are ‘supposed’ to matter. The reality is that the only things that matter are those you decide are important to you. Take ownership and take action. Nobody is responsible for your life and your choices other than you.
Today’s song is “Letter to Me” by Brad Paisley from 2015. I find it very inspirational and thoughtful as I’m sure most of us have often thought about what we might tell the 17-year-old version of ourselves if we had the ability to go back and give some advice.
The song begins:
If I could write a letter to me and send it back in time to myself at 17 First I’d prove it’s me by saying “Look under your bed, there’s a Skoal can and a Playboy no one else would know you hid.”
We all have said to ourselves, “If I only knew then what I know now” about something. How would we even know it was us from the future to know to listen? The beginning of the song is that connection point between the us of today and the us of then. We all had things hidden, secrets we kept from others when we were teenagers. The connection here reminds us that we are still the person we were in the past, just changed by experiences and time. And we can connect with that person from the past anytime we want by channeling those things that meant a lot to us and we didn’t share.
I spent this past weekend with my mom, brother and sister for a family Bat Mitzvah. As we talked about our kids and lessons they have learned or are learning, my brother brought up how he always uses me as the example to his kids. He does this, not because I was a pillar of virtue but actually because I wasn’t. I’m the cautionary tale because I pushed the boundaries and took silly risks and did risky things. The me of today wouldn’t be recognized by the 17-year-old version of myself and I would need to provide some sort of ‘street cred’ to convince that 17 year old version of myself that I really was the same person, just grown up.
We don’t have to be embarrassed by the person we were. We can identify with them and appreciate them for who they were and grateful that we are who we are today. We don’t have to be trapped by our past and can look forward to the present and the future.
And then I’d say I know it’s tough When you break up after seven months And, yeah, I know you really liked her, and it just don’t seem fair But all I can say is pain like that is fast and it’s rare.
It’s funny how our world view changes as we get older. As a teenager, a month was forever. As an adult, a month disappears so quickly it’s hard to believe. A seven-month relationship at 17 seems like forever. Having been married almost 26 years, seven months is the blink of an eye. Being able to put context to time only happens with maturity. That 17-year-old version of myself would be devastated losing a relationship after seven months. That was an eternity. The song reminds us of a few things.
First, life isn’t fair. Life is life. It comes how it comes and it is all about how we deal with the things that come. Sometimes that means we have to deal with pain. The good news is the pain will pass or lessen. But it takes time. And at 17, time isn’t something we understand. My senior year of high school I had a relationship that ended after around 8-9 months. I was devastated. I thought she was the one. We’d been together such a long time. When I look back, I can appreciate the pain and can appreciate how time is completely relative. And while it felt like the pain lasted a long time, it really didn’t. It was fast. I moved on. I haven’t seen or talked to her in nearly 40 years. What was so incredibly painful at 17 passed quickly, even though at the time it felt slow. It’s critical to remember that time is precious and goes too fast. At 17 it didn’t seem that way. Now it seems to go far too fast.
And, oh, you got so much going for you, going right But I know at 17 it’s hard to see past Friday night She wasn’t right for you and still you feel like there’s a knife sticking out of your back and you’re wondering if you’ll survive it You’ll make it through this and you’ll see you’re still around to write this letter to me
Perspective is one of those things we all need and struggle with. The song continues by pointing out to the 17-year-old version that so much is going right yet the focus is on the one thing that isn’t. And even though she wasn’t right for him, and he probably knew it at 17, it still hurts. Pain is a part of life. If we are going to live life, we are going to experience pain. People will disappoint us. People will leave us. Things won’t always go the way we want them to. Yet we move forward and get beyond the immediate hurt into a better future.
My friend and spiritual advisor, Mickey Singer, always talks about preference. It’s preference that gets us into trouble. We prefer something go a certain way because of our limited view. He reminds me that things happen the way they are supposed to happen. Our job is to get rid of preference and understand that. It’s the short-term view vs. the long-term view. When I look back at the life my 17-year-old self wanted and expected, mine is very different. It’s better. More fulfilling. More successful in almost every way possible. If I had stuck with what I wanted at 17, I would have shorted myself an incredible amount.
Like the song says, in the moment we may wonder if we’ll ever get through the pain but we always will if we keep moving forward. And at some point we will be able to look back, appreciate what we went through for what it taught us and what we learned, and be incredibly grateful we are where we are and not back where we would have been.
At the stop sign at Tomlinson and 8th, I always stop completely, don’t just tap your brakes And when you get a date with Bridget, make sure the tank is full On second thought, forget it, hat one turns out kinda cool.
This verse makes me laugh. It’s the older version trying to give basic advice to the younger version. Stop completely at the stop sign. I think back to the younger version of myself and what advice I’d give myself like this. The girls I didn’t realize liked me and in hindsight saw they did. The opportunities I missed that I could have taken advantage of. The small things that my younger self would have appreciated but really don’t mean anything. The older version realizes this when he starts saying to make sure the tank is full of gas. That’s the adult thing to do. The younger version ended up with a great experience and story. Our older selves don’t always know best.
I think about appreciating the challenges that I had growing up. My older self could give advice that would let me avoid lots of mistakes and awkward situations. But then I would not be the person that I am. I would not be able to do the things I can do. I wouldn’t have learned the lessons I did to become who I am. So as much as the older me thinks it would be nice to save the younger version of me some pain, grief, and embarrassment, just like in the song, the realization that it really was for the best is critical.
It’s another reminder that we aren’t in charge. As Mickey would tell me regularly, we are here to experience life and everything that comes with it. Each experience we have in life is a gift, even the things we don’t prefer (there is that preference again). They shape who we are, who we will become, and how we will impact and change the world. It gives us a chance to be grateful for every experience because even the painful ones will pass. I am who I am today because of the experiences of my life to this point. Why would I want a younger me to miss those experiences when it would mean I wouldn’t be who I am?
Each and every time you have a fight, just assume you’re wrong and dad is right And you should really thank Ms. Brinkman She spends so much extra time, it’s like she sees a diamond underneath And she’s polishing you ’til you shine.
This reminds me of a famous Mark Twain saying that I heard years ago. “The older we get, the smarter my parents become.” As a teen, I was sure that my dad didn’t get it. He was a child of the 50s and 60s. I was a child of the 70s and 80s. It was a different time. What did he know about modern times? And yet, the older I got, the more I realized his wisdom. The more I understood that he did know what he was talking about and the more I sought his advice. Now that he isn’t here any longer, I miss his wisdom and advice. I often find myself wanting to ask him for that guidance, to share his wisdom. I’m glad that I got smarter as I got older and had a chance to learn from him. It allows me the opportunity to imagine what he would say. The messages that he would tell me. It’s because I had a chance to learn from him that I can apply that knowledge to imagine what he’d say and how he’d guide me.
The second line is the reminder to appreciate all the other teachers and influencers in our lives. Often times we don’t appreciate those who give us that guidance as mentors, role models, friends, and teachers. As I think back, there are many people I would like to say thank you to. People who believed in me and encouraged me to try a little harder, show up a little more, put in that extra effort. They saw the diamond in the rough and were willing to invest their time, energy, and effort into polishing it (me).
It also reminds me that I have that same responsibility today. I find that there are so many amazing people out there that just need some encouragement, somebody who will invest time in them, somebody who believes in them. I am proud of the people who I have been able to serve that role for. One of them recently said to me:
“My time at UF was shaped by talking with you and others who taught me more than I ever would have done in a classroom.“
It’s nice to know that I have been paying it forward on behalf of those who did the same for me. I believe it’s our responsibility to both realize and recognize those who provided that mentorship and guidance to us and to pay it forward with others. It’s what makes the world better. I have a number of people that I have been able to play that role for and as they achieve success and do amazing things to change the world, I know I had a small part in it. It’s very gratifying. If I could go back to my 17-year-old self, I would want to encourage that kid to say thank you and recognize those people. A thank you means the world and from personal experience, just makes me want to help more people. I wonder how many other people would be impacted if that 17 year old version of me recognized and thanked all those people who saw potential and invested in me?
Oh, you got so much going for ya, going right But I know, at 17 it’s hard to see past Friday night Tonight’s the bonfire rally but you’re staying home insteadBecause if you fail algebra, mom and dad’ll kill you dead But trust me, you’ll squeak by and get a C And you’re still around to write this letter to me
Once again, the song focuses on perspective. The end of the week and the weekend was everything. A week was a long time. The events and choices we made seemed so critical, so essential. Algebra and grades. SAT scores. Who to take to prom. The things that seem so important at the time that in hindsight really weren’t.
It’s also a lesson that sometimes good enough is good enough. It doesn’t mean we shouldn’t strive for excellence. Nobody can be excellent in everything all the time. Nobody can know everything about everything. It’s simply not a realistic expectation yet as teenagers we often think it is what we need to do. There are times when being perfect or the best isn’t what is needed. Sometimes we just need to get by. Sometimes success is simply accomplishing the goal, passing the class, doing what it takes.
Expectations, often unrealistic ones, cause us much harm. They are usually not based on fact or on what we really can accomplish. They tend to come from other people or from societal expectations. As we get older, we have the ability to choose to accept them or not. As a teen, our parents, teachers, and peers have undue influence. The song reminds us that we don’t have to accept the expectations put upon us by others. We can choose to if we want, but it’s a choice. We are not doomed to fail because we didn’t meet the expectations of others.
You’ve got so much up ahead You’ll make new friends You should see your kids and wife
The future is bright. We can get the things we really want. More is ahead than behind. These are all messages our 17-year-old self needs to hear. The person we thought was “the one” at 17 may or may not be. That relationship not working out doesn’t mean we’ll never be married, never have kids.
We can look to the future with excitement no matter our age. There is always so much ahead, even the older we get. The length of time to experience thing may be shorter than at 17 but that doesn’t mean there are not new adventures and experiences ahead.
Life is a journey. We make new friends. We have new experiences. Things continue to change in our lives. We don’t have to worry if it will or won’t change – it will! We don’t have to wonder if it will be good. It may not be what we want. It may not be what we hoped. Iti s what is on our journey.
I love the line, “you should see your kids and wife.” There isn’t any detail added to the statement. It doesn’t say they are amazing or incredible. Yet that is what is inferred. It reminds us that we don’t need all the detail to know something is good. And as we look towards the future, we don’t know what will be. When we look back, we can be filed with gratitude for what we got.
And I’ll end by saying have no fear These are nowhere near the best years of your life I guess I’ll see you in the mirror when you’re a grown man.
We often think of times in the past as being the best years of our lives. Especially when we are looking at times when we didn’t have significant responsibilities. It’s also easy to think that our high school years are the best years of our life and perhaps we are wasting them. Or our college years. Or our 20s or 30s. The reality is that today is the best year of our life all the time. It’s about what we do with our time, not when or where we are in life. Our job is to seize the day. Make the most of the day, of the time, of the life that we have rather than thinking about the life we used to have.
P.S. go hug Aunt Rita every chance you can.
And oh, you got so much going for you going right But I know, at 17 it’s hard to see past Friday night
I love the P.S. This is the reminder to tell the ones we love that we love them. To appreciate those in our lives while we still can. I was blessed to have my Great Grandma Rose in my life into my 20s. All four grandparents into my 20s. Two grandfathers into my early 30s. My dad into my mid 50s. My mom today. My in-laws today. I would love to have them all today, but I also don’t have any regrets for not hugging them, telling them I love them, or spending time with them. I took advantage of every chance I had. One of my favorite stories about my Great Grandma Rose happened near the end of her life. I had sent her a card just because I loved her and was thinking of her. My Grandpa Si was visiting her and she was so excited. She kept telling him, “I got a letter from Keith, I got a letter from Keith.” Grandpa Si asked her, “Well what did it say?” She responded, “I don’t know, I can’t read it. But I got a letter from Keith.” Just thinking about it makes me smile.
We are all limited by time. Don’t miss the time you have with the ones you love. Another day is never promised. Make sure they know how you feel about them and spend the time with them while you can. My mom, brother, sister, and I all just spent the weekend in Chicago for a family Bat Mitzvah. It was a wonderful time being with family and even more special to have the four of us together. I never want to wish I had spent more time with them or told them I loved them. That’s the lesson in this song.
Dancing with my mom. All 3 of us took a turn.
I wish you’d study Spanish, I wish you’d take a typing class I wish you wouldn’t worry and let it be Hey, I’d say have a little faith and you’ll see
If I could write a letter to me
The last line of the song has a bit of irony. It’s the little things you don’t think about as a teen that can have a long-term benefit as an adult. Learning Spanish, a language that helps a career. Typing to make computer use easier. There are so many mundane choices we make as kids that seem unimportant but in hindsight we’d change. My son took French, a great language. Spanish would have been more helpful. When I was in middle school we had to take Cooking, Sewing, Metal Shop, Wood shop, Drafting, and more. I learned how to cook. I learned how to sew. I learned to use power tools. I learned that I didn’t have the skills to be an architect. Usable skills that helped me in life. It’s sad to me that kids today don’t have those same life skills as courses in school. It also tells us that we can still learn Spanish, typing, cooking, sewing, etc. It’s never too late to learn the things we want. And just because we missed an earlier window doesn’t mean we can’t revisit it in the future.
The song resonates with me because the letter ends up being something entirely different than what most of us think we would right. It’s not a lecture nor is directions to avoid the mistakes we think we made. It’s advice and guidance to enjoy the time in high school and all the time ahead until the age we are when we write the letter. It’s validation and suggestions to help appreciate all that we have. It’s a reminder that no matter how young or old we are, we have the ability to enjoy the moment for what it is and not be fixated on what we think it should be.
My life has had ups and down. Good times and bad. Challenges and rewards. When I stop, take a deep breath, and truly look at what I have in my life, it doesn’t matter what stage I am in, it’s a good life. It’s filled with meaning. I can appreciate my family and all the wonder in my life even when it isn’t perfect. And I don’t have to worry, I can let it be, and have a little faith, because I will end up looking at the same self in the mirror either way. I can choosee to enjoy the journey.
PS – Since the song has a PS, so does this blog. My last post was about friendship and what is a friend. One of my friends sent me this, which totally resonates with me. In fact, many of my friends and I have basically said the same thing to each other many times.
I am the first to admit that I am not up on the newest trends. Whether it’s fashion, movies, language, or music, I am always late to the table. Recently I discovered the Tim McGraw song Live Like You are Dying that was released in 2004 (only 20 years behind the times!) that of course was the #1 song on the US Country Billboard chart for 7 weeks. Like I said, I’m behind the times.
As we enter a new year, 2024, the lyrics struck me deeply as a guide for how to live my life. The song was written by Tim Nichols and Craig Wiseman who based it on family and friends who learned of illnesses (cancers), and how they often had a new perspective on life upon learning they had limited time.
When one person asks the other what they did with this news, their answer was simple, beautiful, and powerful. The answer is:
I went skydiving, I went Rocky Mountain climbing I went 2.7 seconds on a bull named Fumanchu. And I loved deeper, and I spoke sweeter, and I gave forgiveness I’d been denying.
What an inspiration. Upon learning of a potential life ending medical condition, their decision was to invest in life. To invest in living every moment possible. To do the things they always wanted. To feel the exhilaration of life. I find myself wondering why it took the diagnosis to make the investment in life. Why do we often wait until it is too late to do the things that we really want or that really matter?
Often times we put the things that society values in front of living. We feel the need to work more, have more money, more things, a nicer car, a bigger house. It often takes a major life event for us to realize our priorities are in the wrong place. Would my life be any less if I drove a less expensive car? Had a less expensive house? Wore less expensive clothes or jewelry?
In Bali I did the swing and it was incredible. I’ve been skydiving. It’s important to do the things that are fun in life.
Horseback riding on the beach in Netanya, Israel with my friend Remo. These opportunities come up for all of us and we need to remember not to miss them.
The next line in song is haunting.
Someday I hope you get the chance to live like you were dying.
We get this chance every single day. Do we want to be home for dinner with the family or work that extra hour or two? Do we want to take our children to their doctor appointment, watch their sporting events, plays, recitals, and concerts or spend more time working, accumulating ‘things’. Why do we have to hope that “someday” we will get this change when we have it every single day.
The second verse talks about the person they want to be. As I read the lyrics, it reminded me of the things that are really important to me.
I was finally the husband that most of the time I wasn’t, and I became a friend a friend would like to have. And all of a sudden going fishin’ wasn’t such an imposition and I went three times that year I lost my dad. Well, I finally read the Good Book, and I took a good, long, hard look at what I’d do if I could do it all again
Fishing with Evan and my nephews Nick and Caden. It was a fun day, especially because I caught all the fish! Memories are priceless.
The past 15 months have been life changing for me. My father died in September 2022. We had a very close relationship and the last few weeks of his life I got to be there for him on a daily basis. The ability to do that was one I will always treasure. His passing started a process of self-evaluation and reflection that continues today.
When my children were little, I had the flexibility to take them to their doctor appointments and almost always did. I didn’t miss a performance or sporting event. As they got older and my travel requirements for work changed, I began missing some things when I was out of town however, I did my best to schedule around their appointments and events. A friend of mine gave me wise advice when my children were little. He said, “Every age is the best.” As such, I wanted to fully engage with them at every age and through every phase.
There came a 3-year period of time when work was overwhelming, and I was not able to engage this way. I remember how I felt during that time period and how much I didn’t like it. I remember feeling like I was not the father I wanted to be. I was not setting the example that I wanted for my children. I was not being the person that I wanted to be. So, I made a change.
The past years have been filled with time invested with my family. I have incredible memories I have with both of my children are ones that will last a lifetime. The time visiting colleges for football recruiting with my oldest. Friday night lights watching him play football in high school and then with UCF and coaching high school football. The spent with my younger son at Jaguars games and theater at the Dr. Phillips Center. Eating dinner as a family. Holiday celebrations together. Birthday traditions, family vacations.
At the UFC fight – it’s become a tradition for Evan, Matthew and me to go.
Matthew and me at the 2022 White House Hanukkah Party. A memory with stories we will always remember
I had the chance to take my nephew Jacob to the Braves-Mets game in Citi Field. Time together is irreplaceable.
On the drive to Tennesse to move Evan in to start as a GA coaching football at Tusculum College, he wanted a little detour to stop at the University of South Carolina football stadium. Worth every minute of the detour.
At my father’s funeral, my brother, sister, and I all spoke about him. None of us talked about how much he worked. None of us talked about the material things that we had. It wasn’t important that we didn’t have the most expensive home, car, or clothes. We talked about the person my dad was. We talked about the time we spent with him. We told stories about him and the impact he had on our lives and the lives of our friends. I wrote in a previous blog how my dad told somebody that he wasn’t afraid of dying. He was just sad about the things he would be missing. I truly believe that is because when he “took a good, long, hard look at what I’d do if I could do it all again” he found little that he would do differently when it came to his family. He was ‘a friend a friend would want like to have’ and inspires me to make sure that I am as well.
Evan with my longtime friend Darryl. Darryl is a college football coach and has served as a mentor to Evan. A friend a friend would want.
The final verse of the song teaches me to do it now, not wait. The lyrics state:
Like tomorrow was a gift and you’ve got eternity to think about what you’d do with it. What could you do with it? What did I do with it? What would I do with it?
I decided years ago that I didn’t want to live with regret. I never wanted to look aback on my life and regret missing out on things. As my oldest is almost 24 and living his dream as a college football coach (graduate assistant) in Tennessee and my youngest is 21 and finishing his Junior year at UCF, I look back at time when they were young without regrets. I took advantage of the time with them to fully immerse myself in being there. I was cautioned by others to take advantage when they still wanted me around because the day would come when they didn’t any longer. I’ve been blessed that they still want me around. That we still do things and go places together. That my oldest wants me to come to watch him coach. That my youngest wants to go to sporting events, concerts, the theater with me. That they both want to go on vacation with their parents.
Evan, Matthew and me the night before he coached in the conference championship game. I wouldn’t trade the 10 hours each way with Matthew or the chance to watch Evan coach for anything.
Alison, Matthew, Carla and me at the Orlando Ballet performance of the Nutcracker. Going to the theater and the arts have become a fun thing for us.
A song that starts with a cancer diagnosis sounds depressing. Yet this one is inspiring. Not because the person survives – we don’t know that outcome. But we do know that they chose to live. They chose to take advantage of every day they have on earth with people.
As we start 2024, I renew my commitment to living in the moment. To not having regrets. To set my priorities and have them in line with my values. To live like I am dying.
Change isn’t easy. It’s new, it’s different, and often comes with pain, either because it’s something we don’t want or because it’s something that hurts that forces us to see things differently and behave differently. As we approach the new year, 2024, it’s a time many people make resolutions for the new year. Things they will change. A number of years ago I made the last one, and one I have kept ever since. I vowed to stop making New Year’s Resolutions?
Why did I do that? Most of these are aspirational with no intent to actually make the changes. The impetus is a date on the calendar, not a desire for real change, and as a result, they simply don’t work. By not making any more new year’s resolutions, I empowered myself to make the changes in my life when they are needed rather than because it’s now January 1st of a new year.
As I look back at the past year, it gives me a chance to look at the changes I have made and the impact they have had and what I hope they will have as I move forward.
On September 6, 2022, my father died. I have been lucky in my life to have wonderful relationships with my parents, and this was a transformative moment in my life. My dad was who I went to for advice and guidance. He was a role model. With him no longer physically here, change was needed in my life. I had to find others who could help provide the guidance that my dad offered for nearly 55 years. My Uncle Marty, my close friends Todd and Ron. People who I had long standing, trusted relationships went to a deeper level.
I began to question what was really important in my life. What mattered to me. I made a commitment to increase the amount of time I spent with my family as time had become the most important thing in my life. I wanted to improve my health, lose weight, and get better reports from my doctors. None of this happened overnight, but it all happened because of the combination of the pain from the loss of my dad and the strong desire for something different. I lost 55 pounds, my health improved, and my doctors were beyond thrilled, and I chose to invest more time with my family, taking advantage of what I could. As my oldest son left the house this morning to return to Tennessee because they needed him back a week early, I was filled with gratitude for the time we did get to spend and look forward to the next opportunity. Pain, something we all do our best to avoid, forced change, something we also tend to avoid, to improve my life, which all want but often aren’t willing to do the work to make happen.
I changed my career. As somebody who spent 25 years working in the Jewish non-profit sector, it was something I enjoyed and something that was core to my identity. I had thought of doing something else many times but never actually made it happen. Fear? Insecurity? Uncertainty? Change is often forced upon us and then we have the choice to rise to the challenge or not. I’m excited about the new future and what it means. I have more time with my family, more time to address improving my health and fitness. Less stress. When my mom said to me, “I was waiting to get the call that you had a heart attack.” it was a wake-up call. It’s a new future ahead with things I cannot foresee and yet, I am more excited about it than I have been in a long while. Change can be scary and exhilarating, uncertain and exciting. How we choose to approach it, what our attitude is and what we are willing to often determine our success.
October 7 was a sea change for me and many others. As I watched the news unfold, as I communicated with friends and family in Israel via WhatsApp during the day, I was horrified, scared, angry, and stunned. I’ll never forget the video of people murdered in their cars and they zoomed in on a minivan with the father, dead and slumped forward on the steering wheel while his young daughter, clinging to his back, was slumped dead against him. It’s a horrifying image that is burned into my brain. I saw the 47-minute Hamas video and those images are forever in my memory. I have connections through friends to at least four hostages who thankfully have been returned to Israel. October 7 was deeply personal in a way I never expected or wanted.
As somebody who was already a very public Jew due to my career, being more public wasn’t a real change. But choosing to invest in being Jewish in my actions was something I could do. I had begun learning with a Rabbi and have continued to do that weekly with a bigger zest and interest. Sometimes I’ll even learn with 2 Rabbis in a week because it’s interesting to hear different perspectives. My tefillin is out and gets used (not daily as some change comes slowly). I don’t identify with any particular denomination any longer – I am a Jew and that’s enough. I am not a jewelry person, yet I bought a new Mogen David (Star of David) from Israel that has the State of Israel as the center of the star and wear it proudly and visible when many others are feeling the need to keep theirs hidden due to safety concerns. I have ordered some additional pieces from Israel, both for my own identity and to support Israeli artists. The guy who hates jewelry is now wearing Jewish jewelry.
I have always been somebody who felt that people were the most important thing in the world. Throughout my life and my career, I have always invested in people. I have some long term friends that I have known literally all my life to those who I’ve been friends with for 20 and 30 years. My kids often joke about their ‘relatives’ that aren’t really related to them. Alice and Jerry (z’l), Amy, Gabi, Karen, and their kids. Uncle Aric and Aunt Carol. My best friend Todd. Ron and Sandy z’l (z’l). It’s very common for them to not ask ‘how are we related?’ but ‘are we really related?’ when these names come up.
I have people that I have worked with from 25 years ago that I still keep in touch with and are still friends. These relationships are ones that I treasure (and those who worked with me or were students at UF when I was at Hillel or at Federation in Seattle or the JCC or Federation in Orlando know exactly what I mean and who you are.) We still talk on a regular basis, sometimes out of the blue and sometimes every few weeks. While not a change, my commitment to people has increased in the last year. Investing in them. Helping them. Being their friend regardless of anything else. October 7th reminded me just how precious those friendships are. The messages on my birthday reminded me how precious those friendships are. People reaching out after my dad died made me realize how incredibly luck and wealthy I am, not because of money or things, but because of people. My career shift highlighted the people who reached out to talk and ask questions. Here are just four examples from the past 5 days that highlight this (I could give many more):
Thursday I spent an hour on a zoom with my friend Harriet.For the past 3 years or so we meet on zoom every week to talk about life, work, stress, family, and the just be friends.It started as part of a cohort and we just never stopped.It’s often the highlight of my week just for the personal connection.
Friday I spent an hour on a zoom with my friend Shelley, catching up on life, talking about our families, our other friends, our careers, things we have considered doing, things we are doing, and just being together for the hour enjoying each others company.
Monday I reached out to a number of friends to wish them a Merry Christmas. One of them, Jamal, let me know that he is writing a book that will be published in 2024 and that he references me in the book and will share it with me before it’s published. I was beyond humbled and overwhelmed by this.
About a week ago, I messaged my friend Yaron, who is a leader in the IDF reserves that I know is on the front line in Gaza. I didn’t expect a prompt reply, or maybe any reply, because of what he is tasked with doing. Monday he replied, apologizing for the delay, which also humbled me. He is currently the operations officer for the Gaza Division so you can imagine what he is living. While he will never talk about it, I heard from other friends that on October 7th, he grabbed his gun and raced into the fight against the Hamas terrorists, helping defend Israelis by taking on the terrorists. He thanked me for reaching out, for keeping him in my thoughts and that he mattered that much to me. We messaged and began making plans to get together after the war, both when I am in Israel and when he is in the United States. His heroism awes me. The fact that my message to him, asking about him and hoping he is ok and safe and that the war ends both successfully and soon, meant so much to him is proof of the power of people.
At the end of the day, change isn’t easy or fun, but is rewarding. People are the key to change. The relationships we build today can last a lifetime. They help us get through change. They help us get through the pain of things like losing a parent, a massacre on October 7th, dealing with a war where friends are on the front lines, and the challenges of daily life. As we come to the close of 2023, I find myself most proud of three things.
The relationship with my parents and my siblings.
The relationship with my wife and children.
The relationship with my friends, colleagues, and former students.
No amount of money can enter the top 3. No amount of success can enter the top 3. Nothing material truly matters until after those 3. I’m humbled and grateful and look forward to a better 2024.
keithdblog 