Category: Something Good

Aug 31 2026 2026-08-31 2026-08-31 NoComment by Ross

Throw in the Towel…

Posted in Something Good, Work

Last night I resigned.

I’m done. I threw in the towel. And, strangely enough, it feels pretty good.

The funny thing is, I actually liked my job. Not necessarily this job, in its current bizarre incarnation, but the actual job I signed up to do. I liked teaching. I liked working with kids. I liked creating lessons. I liked those moments when a student suddenly understood something, or got interested in something, or just stopped staring at me like I was an obstacle standing between them and lunch. There was a reason I chose teaching as a second career.

Unfortunately, at some point the job I liked became a smaller and smaller part of the job I actually had. What remained was the dysfunction.

The uncertainty over where I would be working. The uncertainty over how long I would be working there. The possibility of being moved every month or two. And finally, the announcement that I was being sent to some bizarre assignment almost as far from my house as one can travel while still technically remaining in Chicago.

Three hours a day in the car. For what? Nobody could really explain.

That, of course, was almost beside the point. The way it was handled was simply another example of how seemingly everything is handled.

Eventually I realized I was in an abusive relationship. Sure, there were some good times. And the paychecks were nice. Really nice, actually. Let’s not pretend I won’t miss those. But eventually you have to stop saying, “Maybe they’ll change.” They’re not going to change.

So I packed my metaphorical suitcase and left CPS.

I don’t know what’s next. That sentence is as scary as it once might’ve been in my life.

With the exception of a few years when I was transitioning careers and staying home with my kids, I’ve worked since middle school.  Since then, I’ve almost always known what came next. School led to a job. A job led to law school. Law school led to being a lawyer. Eventually, law led to teaching.

There was always a next thing.

This time there isn’t.

I can’t really say I’m retired. But I also can’t really say I’m not retired.

Maybe I’m retired for a month. Maybe six months. Maybe forever.

Maybe there’s a third career out there waiting for me.

But keeping with my relationship metaphor, I’m never going to meet the right one if I insist on staying with the bad one.

So, for once in my life, I’m going to see what happens.

I have some ideas. I’d like to volunteer. I’d like to get involved helping adaptive athletes. I’d like to find some game nights and meet some new people. Maybe one of those things will turn into a job. Maybe something completely unexpected will turn into a job. Maybe nothing will. That’s okay too.

Because I already have plenty to do.

For starters, my travel calendar somehow looks considerably busier than that of someone who supposedly has nowhere to be.

Labor Day in Wisconsin. Boston in October. Ohio and South Carolina in November. Ohio again in December. Skiing in Utah in January. A West Coast hockey trip in February- three games, three arenas. Skiing in Banff in March.

And that’s just what I’ve booked so far. Apparently unemployment requires a surprising amount of travel.

When I’m home, I’ll practice guitar. I’ll strength train. I’ll train for triathlons. I’ll read. I’ll cook. I’ll volunteer. I’ll kayak while it’s warm and ski when it’s snowy. And maybe, occasionally, I’ll do absolutely nothing.

I’m going to have to practice that one.

Mostly, though, I’m going to enjoy my life. That’s it. That’s the goal.

Not necessarily for the rest of my life. I’m not making any grand declarations about what I will or won’t do six months from now. For the next few days, weeks, months – or maybe years – I’m just going to enjoy myself and see what unfolds.

I’m letting go of the idea that I need to fight everything. For roughly 30 years, my professional life has been divided between two systems that desperately need people willing to fight to make them better: criminal justice and public education.

I fought. Sometimes I even won. I helped some people. I hope I made things a little better for a few of them. I know there are students I helped. I know there are clients I helped. There are probably some people I helped without ever knowing it. And there are plenty of battles I lost.

For years I’ve felt a little like Sisyphus, pushing that damn rock up the hill, watching it roll back down, muttering a few obscenities, and then getting behind it again.

Well, somebody else can grab the rock. I’ve done my shift. That doesn’t mean I don’t care anymore. It doesn’t mean the problems aren’t important. It just means I’ve finally accepted that I don’t have to fix them myself.

Someone else can fight that fight.

I can walk away with my head held high.

I showed up.

I cared.

I tried.

For 30 years, I pushed.

That’s enough. So I’m throwing in the towel. I’m putting down the rock. I’m walking away from the fight.

And for however much time I have left – whether that’s 30 years or considerably less – I’m going to try something radically different.

I’m going to enjoy it.

 


Aug 23 2026 2026-08-23 2026-08-23 NoComment by Ross

Minor League Baseball FTW!

Posted in Something Good, Sports

At the end of my college career, I stayed in Madison for another year working. One of the fun things we’d do was go to Madison Muskies games, the Class A minor league affiliate of the Oakland A’s.

For $5.25, you got a ticket, two food items, and a drink.

Even in the late ’80s, I’m pretty sure this was not a sustainable business model.

They played in what was essentially a glorified high school stadium, and our favorite bet was whether there would be more runs or errors in a given inning.

Spoiler alert: errors usually won.

It was not good baseball. I have no idea how many of those players ever made it to Oakland. I’m guessing not many. But it was a great time.

A year later, I spent the summer in El Paso with the Army Reserve. I had a pretty chill 9-to-5 job, so at night I’d often head into town to the Dudley Dome—which, despite the name, was not a dome—to watch the Class AA El Paso Diablos, then an affiliate of the Milwaukee Brewers.

I don’t think either the Muskies or the Diablos exist anymore. Too bad.

The Diablos were a step up. Bigger stadium. Better baseball. And, most importantly, 10-cent hot dog nights.

I remember sitting at one of those games when the older couple behind me insisted that I put some of their homemade salsa on my 10-cent hot dogs. I did. It was fantastic.

Think about that for a minute: baseball, cheap tickets, 10-cent hot dogs covered in a stranger’s homemade salsa, and a couple of people I’d never met treating me like we’d been going to games together for years.

What’s not to love?

That’s another thing I’ve always liked about minor league baseball. The fans just seem friendlier. There’s less intensity. Nobody’s acting like the fate of Western civilization depends on whether the home team wins. You’re there to watch some baseball, eat something unhealthy, laugh at whatever ridiculous promotion they’re doing between innings, and enjoy a summer night.

Last year, my wife and I went to a Salt Lake Bees game. Now I was getting closer to the big leagues. The Bees were AAA, affiliated with the Angels. Better players, nicer stadium, better baseball.

But still cheap. Still relaxed. Still fan-friendly.

Then today, my wife and I took two of our kids (against their will) to a Chicago Dogs game.

The Dogs are independent baseball, so we’re heading back down the baseball food chain again.

And the play was…uh…not good.

I’ll forgive a lower-level player for bobbling a line drive. These guys are still infinitely better at baseball than I ever was or ever will be.

But three guys watching a ball drop between them?

That’s pretty bad.

It happened twice by the time we left in the sixth inning.

The opposing pitcher also walked four batters in a row. For the non-baseball fan, that means he walked the bases loaded and then walked in a run. Two batters later, he walked in another one.

Ouch.

But you know what?

I loved it.

The ticket was cheap. Actually, mine was free. Parking was free. Bottomless popcorn was $3.50. Bottomless soda was $3.50. We sat outside on a summer afternoon watching baseball and laughing at some truly questionable fielding.

And it reminded me how much I love minor league baseball.

Maybe even more than Major League Baseball.

Don’t get me wrong. I love going to Wrigley Field. There’s nothing quite like a packed major league stadium, especially when the game matters.

But minor league baseball feels different.

Nobody is charging you $18 for a beer. Nobody needs a second mortgage to take the family. The players aren’t superstars. The stadium isn’t a cathedral. Sometimes three professional baseball players stand around and watch a catchable fly ball hit the ground.

Twice.

And somehow that’s part of the charm.

I’ve been going to these games for almost 40 years now – from the Madison Muskies, to the El Paso Diablos, to the Salt Lake Bees, to the Chicago Dogs.

Different cities. Different teams. Different levels of baseball.

Same basic formula.

Cheap tickets. Cheap food. Friendly people. A summer evening or afternoon at the ballpark.

And every once in a while, if you’re lucky, somebody sitting behind you offers you some homemade salsa for your 10-cent hot dog.

I’ll always be a fan.


Aug 20 2026 2026-08-20 2026-08-20 NoComment by Ross

What If It All Works Out?

Posted in Something Good, Work

I have a print hanging on the wall next to my bed that says: (the one in this post)

What if it all works out?

I see it when I wake up in the morning and again when I go to bed at night. It’s basically twice-daily cognitive behavioral therapy via home décor.

Like a lot of people, I have a pretty healthy negativity bias. Give me an uncertain situation, and I can immediately come up with seventeen different ways it might end badly. What I rarely do is ask the equally plausible question:

What if it all works out?

Which is odd, because I have approximately 60 years of evidence suggesting that it usually does.

Not that everything has gone the way I wanted. Of course it hasn’t. Bad things have happened. Plans have fallen apart. I’ve made mistakes. Other people have made mistakes that I then got to enjoy. But I’ve survived all of it. Sometimes I’ve learned something. Sometimes I’ve changed direction. Sometimes I’ve just said, “Well, that sucked,” and moved on.

But somehow, every new uncertainty arrives, and my brain says, This could be the one! This could be the catastrophe we’ve been preparing for!

My latest example: my job.

After weeks of uncertainty following my layoff, late Monday I finally learned where CPS was assigning me. It’s technically a 30-to-60-day assignment unless the principal asks me to stay. If that doesn’t happen, I’ll probably rotate somewhere else every month or two.

When I saw the school, my immediate reaction wasn’t, “What if this is great?”

Of course not.

I thought it was going to be a rough school. I assumed I’d spend every day as a substitute, bouncing from classroom to classroom. I wondered whether I should just quit.

My brain went straight to Worst Case Scenario Theater, where apparently I have season tickets.

My wife suggested that perhaps I should actually go to the school before deciding it was terrible. I believe her exact wording may have been slightly less gentle than that. At the time, I interpreted this as an appalling lack of support.

Unfortunately, as happens far too often for my liking, she was right.

So Tuesday morning I showed up.

And everyone was nice.

I met administrators and teachers. I sat through professional development. People welcomed me. More importantly, I learned they didn’t want me to spend my days randomly substituting. Instead, they assigned me classes to co-teach.

The next day I helped with orientation, met more people, learned my way around the building, and got an even better feel for the place.

And now?

I’m actually excited about being there.

I’m still going to give it the 30 days before making any declarations, but at the moment I can absolutely see myself asking to stay for the year.

Once again:

What if it all works out?

Because it did.

And all that worrying accomplished exactly nothing.

Actually, in some ways this assignment may be better than my old job. I have three classes instead of five. I’m co-teaching, so I don’t have to do all the lesson planning or grading. I have five free periods during the day, which is almost absurd. I’ll probably get bored, but I recognize that “I have too much free time at my full-salary teaching job” is not going to generate much sympathy.

And because I’m technically a short-term reassigned teacher, I’m probably not going to be handed a bunch of long-term projects or extra responsibilities.

Three classes. No grading. No lesson planning. Five free periods.

I may have accidentally stumbled into the greatest teaching job in America.

There is a part of me that still wishes I had a permanent position. I like working. I like feeling productive. I like being part of a team and having something that feels like mine. In fact, I may ask around and see if another teacher wants some help for a period or two. Five free periods might eventually cause me to start wandering the halls asking strangers, “Anybody need anything laminated?”

But that’s a pretty good problem to have.

A few days ago, I was imagining all the ways this assignment could be awful.

Today, I’m thinking it might be pretty great.

That’s why the print stays next to my bed.

I’m apparently a slow learner.

But twice a day, I get the reminder:

What if it all works out?


Aug 11 2026 2026-08-11 2026-08-11 NoComment by Ross

Something Good: Apparently I Qualify…

Posted in Something Good

On our trip to Utah, my wife and I had dinner with an old friend and her boyfriend. At some point, he mentioned that he gets free tickets to concerts, sporting events, and other things through an organization that distributes donated tickets to military veterans.

He thought my Army Reserve service would qualify. I was skeptical.

I don’t really consider myself a “veteran,” at least not in the legal sense of the word. I spent about 14 years in the Army Reserve, with a few years off in the middle for law school, but I never served 20 years or was activated for federal service. (IIRC, that is the legal definition for veteran status)

I came close once. During Gulf War I, it looked like my unit might get called up. I was notified on a Friday that we would be called up and, because I was part of the advance party, I would go on Monday. Then, over the weekend, some general apparently changed his mind and decided to send a unit from Wisconsin instead. Thanks, Wisconsin.

By Gulf War II, I was already out.

So while I don’t fit the technical definition of “veteran” that applies in some contexts, I did spend a pretty significant chunk of my younger life in the Army Reserve. Drill weekends, annual training, uniforms, early mornings, standing around waiting for someone to tell us why we were standing around – the whole Army experience.

Most normal people would probably call that “serving.”

Anyway, I filed away the conversation and didn’t think much more about it.

Then today, while I was out for a run, I passed a billboard advertising the exact organization he’d been talking about. Well, okay then. When I got home, I looked it up.

Turns out I qualify.

I signed up, went through their verification process, and decided to test the whole thing with something easy. I found two tickets to this week’s MLS game. The tickets themselves were free, although I had to pay $13 for “delivery.”

Thirteen bucks for two MLS tickets? I think I can absorb the financial blow.

And there was a lot more available: Cubs tickets, minor-league baseball, concerts, magic shows, and all sorts of other events.

For now, I’m treating the soccer game as my proof of concept. Let’s see how this works. If everything goes smoothly, maybe I’ll start keeping an eye out for some of the bigger events.

It’s funny how these things happen. A random conversation over dinner in Utah. A billboard spotted while running back home. A website I probably never would have thought I qualified for.

And now my wife and I are going to a soccer game for $13.

Nothing life-changing. Just something good that happened today.

 


Aug 06 2026 2026-08-06 2026-08-06 by Ross

Winner Winner Chicken Dinner….

Posted in Something Good

This morning I received an email informing me that I was selected as a winner for completing a survey about the last half-Ironman race I did.  My first thought is it was a scam.  But I checked it out, and it wasn’t.  With this selection, I was given a FREE entry to ANY Ironman 70.3 I wanted in 2027.  That’s a big deal.  That’s worth $510.03 (according to the website).  SWEET.

I chose the same race I did this year.  I really enjoyed the race; it’s convenient being 90 minutes from my house, and it’s about one or two weeks after school gets out (assuming I’m working somewhere).

That’s definitely my “something good” for today.


Jul 26 2026 2026-07-26 2026-07-26 by Ross

Sometimes the Best Things Weren’t on the Itinerary….

Posted in Movies, Something Good, Utah

One of the things we’ve always tried to do with our place in Utah is strike a balance between the familiar and the new. We’ve had our favorite places for years now. Favorite hikes. Favorite lakes. Favorite restaurants. We always seem to end up back at the same bakery, the same trails, the same scenic overlooks. But every trip we also make a point of trying something we’ve never done before.

Over the years, that’s led us to minor league baseball games, Real Salt Lake matches, Utah Mammoth hockey, junior hockey, new restaurants in Park City and Salt Lake City, and all sorts of little adventures that never would have happened if we’d just stuck to our routine.

Last night was one of those “let’s try something different” moments.

Park City Film was hosting a screening at the library of a documentary called Best Day Ever. I’d seen a short news story about it beforehand and thought it sounded interesting. The film was produced by the Kelly Brush Foundation, which helps people with spinal cord injuries and other disabilities stay active through adaptive sports.

I’m really glad we went.

The documentary follows the construction of Vermont’s first adaptive mountain bike trail and centers on adaptive cyclist Greg Durso. Calling him inspirational almost feels like selling him short. His personality practically bounces off the screen. More importantly, he’s simply an incredible athlete. Watching him ride terrain that I wouldn’t even attempt on two fully functioning legs was equal parts humbling and exhilarating.

The film also follows a young woman, Allie, who was paralyzed in a mountain biking accident as she returns to ride the very trail where her life changed forever. Her courage wasn’t loud or dramatic. It was simply matter-of-fact. This happened. Life changed. Now let’s keep living.

If *Best Day Ever* comes to a theater near you or starts streaming somewhere, I can’t recommend it enough. Stay for the credits if you can.

In our case, there was a panel discussion afterward. I was a little disappointed that Greg Durso and Allie couldn’t make it, but two local adaptive athletes took part instead, including Wally Lee.

His story hit me hard.

Wally was married with children when he was paralyzed. Years later, his wife developed cancer and eventually passed away. He wasn’t selling inspiration. He wasn’t pretending every day was wonderful. In fact, he specifically acknowledged that not every day is the “best day ever.” But when he talked about taking one last bike ride with his wife before she died……I just reached over and held my own wife’s hand.

Moments like that hit my gratitude bone. I’m grateful that I can walk. Grateful that I have my health. Grateful that my wife was sitting beside me.

But there was another lesson that was somehow even more comforting.

We all imagine certain things as the absolute worst that could happen to us. Paralysis. Losing a spouse. Catastrophic life changes. And yet here were person after person showing that even after those things happened, life wasn’t over.

They weren’t asking for pity.

They weren’t asking for sympathy.

They were busy living.

Laughing.

Riding bikes.

Helping others.

Finding purpose.

Finding joy.

It was unbelievably uplifting.

The evening also clarified something I’ve been thinking about as retirement gets closer.

I’ve said for a while that when I’m done teaching, I want to spend my time around people who actually want to be where they are. Maybe that’s a ski resort. Maybe a cooking school. Maybe a pool. After last night, I could absolutely see myself volunteering with Utah’s National Ability Center, helping people learn to ski or ride adaptive bikes—especially wounded veterans.

There is so much meaningful work to be done in the world. It doesn’t all happen inside bureaucracies.

Sometimes it happens on a bike trail.

Sometimes it happens in a volunteer organization.

Sometimes it happens on the third floor of a public library.

And sometimes you stumble into exactly what you needed simply because you decided to try something new.


Jul 02 2026 2026-07-02 2026-07-02 by Ross

From the Something Good Files: A Perfectly Ordinary Day…

Posted in Something Good

Today has been wonderful in a very basic kind of way.

I went for a run this morning before it got too hot. Then I spent some time reading before meeting a friend for lunch. We had delicious Italian beef, dipped with hot peppers. A true Chicago classic.

After lunch, I headed down to the Chicago River for an hour of kayaking. I only saw one other person on the water, probably because it was over 90 degrees. Fine by me. I had the river mostly to myself as I paddled along, looking at the birds, trees, turtles, and ducks.

It’s one of the only times I exercise without listening to music. I genuinely enjoy hearing the wind, the water against the kayak, the birds, and the background hum of the city. It’s peaceful in a way that’s hard to describe.

When I got home, I took a nice cool shower, drank an ice-cold Vitamin Water, and now I’m stretched out on the couch in the air conditioning getting ready to read some more.

Nothing crazy. Nothing life-changing. Just a really good day.

And that’s the point.

All of these little things deserve to be appreciated. I’m able to exercise and move my body. I can read interesting books. I got to have lunch and a good conversation with a friend. Tasty food. A kayak. Open spaces. Nature. A cold shower. Clean drinking water. Air conditioning during a heat wave.

When you start listing them out, it turns out an ordinary day is actually full of gifts. Today reminded me that life is mostly made up of small pleasures stacked one on top of another.

  • A run before the sun gets too high.
  • An Italian beef with hot peppers.
  • An hour alone on the river.
  • A cold drink.
  • A good book.
  • A comfortable couch.

That’s a pretty wonderful way to spend a day.

It’s great to be alive.

 


Jun 26 2026 2026-06-26 2026-06-26 by Ross

Something Good: A Kayak, a Martini, and a Pretty Great Life

Posted in Something Good

From the “Something Good” files…

Today I spent an hour kayaking on the Chicago River, and it was exactly what I needed it to be.

Recently, I bought a fold-up kayak. I already own an inflatable kayak, and I can say with complete confidence that I do not like it at all. It takes forever to inflate because it has approximately 437 different air chambers that all need attention. Then, once you’re on the water, it feels less like a kayak and more like you’re paddling a giant inner tube.

Oddly enough, I also own an inflatable stand-up paddleboard that is fantastic. It feels as solid as a regular board. The kayak? Not so much.

Some friends own Oru folding kayaks and love them, so I took their recommendation… sort of. I bought a different brand entirely.

I assembled it yesterday in my kitchen to make sure I could figure it out before getting to the river. This led to a wonderful scene when my wife and daughter came home from work and found me sitting in a kayak in the middle of the kitchen.

Fortunately for me, they just rolled their eyes like “of course, Dad is just sitting in a kayak in the kitchen”

Today I carried it down to the dock behind the boathouse near my house and set it up for real. Less than ten minutes. That’s a win right there.

I launched and headed north, against the current. The kayak is on the smaller side and doesn’t exactly track like an America’s Cup yacht. It wanders a bit. Honestly, so do I.

I saw herons, turtles sunning themselves, ducks with ducklings paddling behind them, and all sorts of birds I couldn’t identify but appreciated anyway.

The amazing thing about the Chicago River is that once you’re down in it, surrounded by trees and away from the streets, you’d swear you weren’t in a major city at all. It feels like you’ve escaped to the woods somewhere.

I didn’t paddle far enough north to reach the fancy houses and private docks. Maybe next time. Today wasn’t about exploring. It was about floating. About being outside. About being quiet.

Eventually, I turned around and let the current do some of the work as I drifted back south. I spent about an hour on the water, then packed everything up in less than five minutes.

Sweet.

This is definitely going to become a regular part of my summer.

I grew up behind some lagoons where I can take the kayak. In two weeks, we’re headed to Michigan, where the kayak will make an appearance. Then later this summer it will go to Utah.

Not bad for a little folding boat that fits in the trunk of my car.

And now? An ice-cold martini, a good book, family games with my wife and daughter, pizza, and the NHL Draft on TV.

Days like this make me realize something.

For all the things I worry about, all the things I overthink, and all the times I forget to notice it…

It’s great to be alive.


Jun 23 2026 2026-06-23 2026-06-22 by Ross

Wrong Again, Honey…

Posted in Something Good

As usual, I was wrong again.

I was wrong when my wife wanted to redecorate our older son’s room. To be fair, some of my objections were sustained, so I’d like partial credit for helping make it a great remodel.

I was wrong about spending the money to redo our backyard.

I was wrong about finishing the basement.

However, I was NOT wrong about the Little Free Puzzle Library she wanted installed in our front yard.

You’ve seen Little Free Libraries. Take a book, leave a book. I love them. If I buy a physical copy of a book, as soon as I’m done reading it, I walk down the block and put it in one.

But a puzzle library?

Same concept, except with jigsaw puzzles.

Nevertheless, she wanted one for Christmas, so I bought it. We had it installed about a month ago.

Now, I am going to maintain my position that I am not wrong, but I may be the only person in the neighborhood who thinks that.

The thing has been a huge hit.

My wife loves looking out the window and watching adults and kids stop to browse through the puzzles. It took a week or two for word to spread, but now there are always a few puzzles in there and they rotate regularly.

The final blow came while we were setting up for our block party.

A woman stopped her car in the middle of the street, which irritated me because we were trying to clear the street for the event. But she jumped out and opened her trunk.

It was full of puzzles.

She was genuinely excited that there was a puzzle library in the neighborhood and wanted to contribute.

So yes, technically, I still maintain that a Little Free Puzzle Library is a ridiculous idea.

Unfortunately, everyone else appears to love it.

Including me. (it’s a nice neighborly thing)


Jun 22 2026 2026-06-22 2026-06-22 by Ross

That Was a Nice Father’s Day…

Posted in Something Good

That was a nice Father’s Day.

For whatever reason, the last few Father’s Days I’ve been traveling to Utah. I think it’s just been timing. School gets out, a week or two passes, and I’m on the road. Usually, I leave on Saturday and wind up missing Father’s Day entirely. This year was different. Because of a family trip later in the summer, I’m heading west at a different time. Going forward, I think I might stick around more often.

First off, I slept in. Not late. I’m old.

Still, it was nice to sleep in and not have to worry about training. No alarm. No long run. No bike ride hanging over my head.

After coffee and the crossword, my wife and I went to a yoga class at our gym. I possess neither strength nor flexibility, which is exactly why I’ve decided I need to add yoga and/or strength training to my routine. For me, though, it was also another hour I got to spend with my wife. I know. I’m a simp.

We did a chore or two on the way home and then had a nice family brunch with everyone. After that, my wife, the boys and I played Scattergories. I don’t know if there is any scientific evidence that Scattergories improves family relationships, but there should be.

Later, my wife and I went to a cooking class. The topic was smashburgers, but it was really about a lot more than that: grinding meat, making buns, pickles, aioli, and a wedge salad. It was a very nice afternoon and, once again, a few more hours spent with my wife.

When we got home, we watched a harmless rom-com before bed.

Honestly, hanging out with my wife and kids was all I wanted anyway. That’s usually the answer if you ask me what I want.

That said, I also got some great gifts.

A gift card to a new deli in town. Bags and bags of Jujy Fruits and Jelly Beans. My family knows me well.

But the standout was something my daughter made. She created a large framed collage of my life. Apparently, she raided “the box” in the basement, that mysterious storage container where important things go to be forgotten for twenty years.

The collage included my high school suspension letter, my college ID, military dog tags and awards, paperwork from my appointment as a prosecutor, letters from former students, and photographs spanning decades all the way to the present day.

It was spectacular.

Not that I didn’t also appreciate the future pastrami on rye.

What struck me most was seeing all those pieces of my life together in one place. Most of us don’t spend much time looking backward. We just move on to the next thing. The next job. The next project. The next worry. My daughter took all those scattered pieces and turned them into a story.

Maybe that’s one of the gifts children give their parents as they get older. They remind us that our lives look different from the outside than they do from the inside.

From the inside, I mostly remember mistakes, wrong turns, and things I should have done better. From the outside, she saw a life worth celebrating.

All in all, it was a great day.