Tag Archives: quote

One More Day

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“There are no answers… only choices.”

—Solaris

Today’s story is from Mike Stewart.

One more day. With your father. Your son. What would you give? I sat on the edge of Mark’s hospice bed, his hand in mine. I gently brushed the thin, wispy hair back from his forehead. “He’s gone,” the nurse whispered from behind. The words I had feared for five years.

One day at a time.

(l-r) Mark’s dad Mike , Mark, and his brother Mike

I have never understood why my son’s fate was to die young. I don’t expect that I will. My name is Mike Stewart. This is the story of Mark. He was my son.

So bright, funny. A regular comedian, and smart as a whip. Successful… respected in his professional career. Mark was that one person in anyone’s life… that one person who makes you believe, who gives you hope, who pulls you through.

But cancer doesn’t discriminate. The diagnosis was real. A parent’s worse fear. Not Mark. Please God, anything but this. Don’t take one of my kids. But I had to be strong for my son. Together, we had to beat this thing. But I was terrified, as any father would be. READ MORE 

Have You Learned About Vacuums Yet?

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“Once you let go of all the negative people in your life…positive ones appear.”

—Autumn Kohler

Today’s story is from Megan.

Dad raised me from 9. Mom left us that year. My brother was 7. Those were tough times.

the vacuum, the void

Megan in Hawaii

We did have one bit of luck. Dad won a trip to Hawaii. The catch? Tickets for two. He’ll probably take Ryan, I thought.

Wrong. Dad asked me along!

Me and my dad. A trip with just him. Right after Mom left. You can’t know what that meant.

Dad and I spent a week doing it all. We inspected each beach. We examined each shell. We ate off the same plate. We even toured the Dole pineapple factory, my hand tucked tightly in his. READ MORE 

Kids Kidnapped by Dad

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“The best thing to spend on your children is time.”

—Arnold Glasow

Today’s story is from Mort Dukehart

My dad Mort, adventurer extraordinaire. “Pack your bags. We’re taking a weekend trip.”

kidnapped by dad

Mort (right) with his younger brother Jon, circa 1950

Virtually every weekend, my brother and I took a trip with Dad. Sometimes near, often far. We piled in the car. Off we went. We never knew where until we arrived. It might be just a few hours. It could be days. It was always a surprise.

Even on a rare weekend at home, Dad took us on long walks to pick up driftwood from Long Island Sound; or a short drive to check out new local sites. The Dukehart boys were doers, not observers. Dad wanted us to learn the world by experiencing it. And, he loved to spend time with his boys. We felt the same about him.    READ MORE 

Just Do What Has to Be Done

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Do the right thing. It will gratify some people and astonish the rest.

—Mark Twain

by Darren Hardy, April 9, 2013

My dad would have been 66 years old yesterday. I lost him to bone cancer seven months ago. In his eulogy I passed forward the half-dozen philosophies he taught me that shaped me into the man I am today, in the hope they might benefit those in attendance.

what has to be done

Darren Hardy in his father’s arms

In honor and celebration of his birthday I’d like to pass one of those philosophies forward to you. This one saved my life… and defined my life.

You might know that my parents divorced when I was only 18 months old. My mother never really wanted to be a mother (she got angry when she found out she was pregnant with me), so when they split up, she cheerfully handed me over to my dad.

My dad didn’t know what to do with me either. He was only 23 years old when I was born. He had just moved from his hometown, in the San Francisco Bay Area, to what seemed like the middle of nowhere in Albuquerque, New Mexico.

There we were, out there all alone.    READ MORE 

Baby Lost at Sea Finds Unusual Dad

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“Come mothers and fathers throughout the land, and don’t criticize what you can’t understand.”

—Bob Dylan

An interspecies friendship — an amazing love story.

Awful in every way. What was happening to me? I was a baby. Age one year at the time. Christmas 2004. Everything gone. A terrible storm. My home demolished. My mom, dad, my brothers and sisters — drowned.

interspecies friendship, a love story

Owen & Mzee, best friends forever

The violent sea snatched me away. It carried me for days. Until a foreign shore appeared. The landscape strange — I knew I was far from home.

Voices, shouting. Strange beings all around. A net over my head. I was too weak to fight — almost. And, I had grown pretty big — about 650 pounds at the time. I was dehydrated. Disoriented. I wanted to die — and I almost did.

The man who helped me — his name was “Owen.” Now that’s my name, too. When Owen first saw me I heard him exclaim,

“What to do? There are no hippos like this here!”

But Owen stepped in when others were scared.    READ MORE 

Sleuthing the Web to Find Dad’s Cherished Impala

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“Surprise is the greatest gift which life can grant us.”

—Boris Pasternak

Herb Younger’s 1965 Chevy Impala was almost a member of family.

This is about a dad, a son, and a 1965 Impala SS. The story begins in 1964.
1965-chevy-impala

Mom, one of the dogs, and Dad’s 1965 Impala

Herb Younger saw her on the showroom floor. A 1965 Chevy Impala SS. Goldwood yellow. 396 cubic-inch engine. Chrome rims. Herb was in college, but couldn’t say no. He financed the car and worked to make payments. Life seemed complete. Herb needed no more.

Then he met Linda. They fell in love. They dated in Herb’s Impala SS. It took them everywhere, even the chapel to marry… and honeymoon to follow. When Herb accepted a teaching job across the country a year later, the couple drove Herb’s Impala SS over 2,000 miles without air conditioning. Packed in the back, all their worldly belongings plus two dogs and a parakeet named Harvey.    READ MORE 

Dad Was This Huge Looming Presence

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“I was very conscious that [Dad] was this huge, looming presence…”

—Joe Hill

Today’s story is about Joe Hill.

So you want to be a writer. You’ve picked a tough trade. Many try. Few succeed. But you’ve got an edge. One hell of an edge.

dad is a looming presence

Writer Joe Hill, son of Stephen King.

He’s the world’s best best-selling author. Fifty novels. Fifty-million sales. Stephen King is his name. Most would kill for that “in”. You lucked out. The King of Scream is your dad.

You’re a lucky guy — the son of the King. As an aspiring writer, what do you do to leverage Dad’s name?

A crazy move most would say. You change your name!

What happens? You struggle for years. You write. Submit. Rejection, day after day. You soldier on with your “art.” You try not to get down. You peck away in obscurity. Just like every other writing schmuck.

Then, your stuff starts to catch. On your own, you become a best-selling author. Award-winner. Genre-shaper. Critical darling … before anyone knew you were Stephen King’s son.    READ MORE