How, How Much

Growing up in rural Wisconsin as a kid, we had an old green, beat up Plymouth station wagon. Kinda, sorta beat up. The harsh Wisconsin winters were not a friend to it, leaving the poor old car with rust spots here and there, especially around the wheel wells and doors.

We didn’t have cellphones or portable video devices. Back then hardly anyone listened to FM, so our only option would be to listen to an AM channel with static and white noise. As we traveled, the signal would fade in and out and force us to find a new station to listen to. Together with mom and dad and at least six or seven of us in the car at any one time, finding something we could all agree on was difficult.

At some point in time, our radio died. Just went. Gone. Old, I guess, just like the rusting green car that was its, and our, carriage for so many years.

The loss of the radio forced us to have conversation. But mostly, what I remember is that we’d sing. Three and four part harmony. The young ones sang the high and very high notes, while the older ones and mom and dad sang the lower notes. Because we didn’t have sheet music to lean on, and because none us could read music anyway until later in life, all the songs were by rote and all the harmony was by ear. And Lord help us if we hit a wrong note! You had better get it right the first time or you heard about it or were on the receiving end of a sharp elbow!

I can’t tell you how many trips we took but there were a lot of them. And because of those trips, there were a lot of songs. As I write this, there are several that come to mind and I even remember my part. Can’t hit some of those high notes any longer. No way!

Great memories and great times! I think it made our family tighter and closer.

We’ve lost that as time went on. Not only my family, but all of us.

Cell phones and earbuds. IPads and tablets. Cars with Wi-Fi. Are there any cars out there without AM and FM and satellite radios and CD players? Are there any worth buying?

I think our society has placed a growing emphasis on How Much.

Bigger is better, unless you’re talking about your stomach or your hips or your butt. Bigger houses and bigger cars. Bigger shoe collections and bigger closets to fit a bigger wardrobe. Bigger TVs and bigger stereo systems. It seems that we measure success by How Much one has.

Rather than How.

I think How is a better question to ask. I think How is a better measuring stick for one’s life.

How did you treat your children today? How did you treat your husband, your wife, your mother, your father? How did you treat the kids we teach or the people we work with? How many kind, considerate, and compassionate words did you give away? How many times did you embrace someone, smile at someone? How many times did you take the time to stop and listen to someone in need, someone who needed help? How many times did you reach out to lift someone up?

When it’s all said and done, at the end of time, I think we’ll be measured by the How in our lives rather than How Much. I think the better, more worthwhile measuring stick for all of us is How rather than How Much. Better for all of us, for each of us. Better for the world. Something to think about . . .

Live Your Life, and Make A Difference!

For My Readers:

A Thriller-Mystery Series To Begin The New Year!

A Review From An Enthusiastic Reader:

“These are some of the most amazing books I have ever read. I'm working on the last one now and have been waiting ever so impatiently for it to come out lol I started with the prequel and the other ones were out already, with the exception of the last one, which is now. From that book I went straight to downloading the rest of them and read them back to back. I couldn't put it down. If you are someone who likes to read I highly recommend these books!” All books available in ebook and paperback on Amazon, free with Kindle Unlimited.

Book Three, Splintered Lives:

A 14 year old boy has a price on his head, but he and his family don’t know it. Their vacation turns into a trip to hell. Out gunned and outnumbered, can this boy protect his father and brothers? Without knowing who these men are? Or how many there are? Or when they might come for him? http://www.amazon.com/Splintered-Lives-Trilogy-Book-ebook/dp/B017RFXY9Y/ref=sr_1_1?s=books&ie=UTF8&qid=1447079283&sr=1-1&keywords=Splintered+Lives%2C+Joseph+Lewis  

Book One, Stolen Lives:

Two thirteen year old boys are abducted off a safe suburban street. Kelliher and his team of FBI agents has 24 hours to find them or they’ll end up like all the others- dead!

http://www.amazon.com/Stolen-Lives-Trilogy-Book-ebook/dp/B00PKKN6W4/ref=sr_1_1?s=books&ie=UTF8&qid=1415927661&sr=1-1&keywords=stolen+Lives%2C+Joseph+Lewis  

Book Two, Shattered Lives:

Six men escaped and are out for revenge. The boys, recently freed from captivity, are in danger and so are their families. The FBI has no clues, no leads, and nothing to go on and because of that, cannot protect them.

http://www.amazon.com/Shattered-Lives-Trilogy-Book-ebook/dp/B00UZRP828/ref=sr_1_3?s=books&ie=UTF8&qid=1426952407&sr=1-3&keywords=Shattered+Lives%2C+Joseph+Lewis  

In Harm's Way

Growing up in the Midwest, I remember the first snowfall and the first real accumulation of snow. Out would come the snow pants, the heavy woolen socks, the stocking hat pulled snuggily over the ears. Then we’d don the boots- with buckles, no less- pull on the heavy warm jacket and mittens, and out the door we’d go. Growing up next to a river, there would be the necessary cautions to “stay off the ice because it isn’t thick enough yet.”

A snowflake on your tongue. Snowball fights. Snow forts.  Igloos and tunnels and snow angels.

After every last bit of energy was spent and after we were more than soaking wet, with cheeks red and lips sometimes cracked, we’d trudge up the back stoop, strip off all the outer gear and hang it up to dry.

Then there was Coco with marshmallows, maybe a graham cracker or two, sometimes with peanut butter.

I’m a lot older now and to be honest, I’m not all that enamored with snow or the cold anymore. That’s the reason we left Wisconsin.  I believe that unless the temperature matches my age, I shouldn’t have to go outside. But I also know that changes in weather, sometimes chilly and sometimes down right cold, happen, so I live with it.  Barely.

Like my parents did so many years ago, and not just with boots and mittens and stocking hats and heavy socks, and like parents and teachers and mentors today, we try to protect our kids from the ice and the cold.  We try to protect our kids from a lot more than that.

We build up our kids, and we help them avoid the potholes and pitfalls that lay in wait. Heck, we know that they’re there. Chances are, we tripped and stumbled and fell because of one or two of them.

Each of us in our own way and as best we can try to strengthen our kids, get them ready for the big ol’ world outside the comfy confines of our homes . . . their homes.  Some are better at it than others.  But I believe each of us does the best we can.

It’s never easy.  Parenting, like teaching, is a tough and rugged contact sport.  WWF has nothing on us!  Nothing.  When it comes to our kids, any kids, I think there isn’t one of us who wouldn’t take a kick to the head before we’d let anyone kick our kids.  I think each of us would put ourselves In Harm’s Way before something would happen to our kids.

And when something does happen to our kids, there is anger and a desire for swift retribution.  What is that old saying about not messing with the cub if you don’t want mama bear after you? 

And then we come to our senses, barely, and we gather up and hold and protect and reassure.  We build back up and reinforce so that the next time . . .

And there always will be a next time.  No matter how we prepare, no matter how we might wish it away, there will always be a next time.

So . . .

Knowing that we can’t protect our kids . . . ourselves . . . for or from every eventuality, we can take solace in the fact that there are guardian angels among us.  Those folks who look out for us and who come to our aid when we need it, when we least expect it, when there is no one else.  There are those guardian angels among us who suddenly and quietly appear by our side, who are with us step by step, and who might not say a word, but will, by their silence and a gentle hand and a willing ear, let us know that we are not alone.

Are you a guardian angel when there is a need?  Or do you leave that to others? Being a guardian angel takes a commitment and it takes courage and it is sometimes messy.  Especially in this season of giving, something to think about . . .

To My Readers:

From An Enthusiastic Reader:

“These are some of the most amazing books I have ever read. I'm working on the last one now and have been waiting ever so impatiently for it to come out. I started with the prequel and the other ones were out already, with the exception of the last one, which is now. From that book, I went straight to downloading the rest of them and read them back to back. I couldn't put it down. If you are someone who likes to read I highly recommend these books!”

Book Three, Splintered Lives:

A 14 year old boy has a price on his head, but he and his family don’t know it. Their vacation turns into a trip to hell. Out gunned and outnumbered, can this boy protect his father and brothers? Without knowing who these men are, how many there are, or when they might come for him? Book Three of the Lives Trilogy, Splintered Lives, is now available in ebook and paperback on Amazon, free on Kindle Unlimited. http://www.amazon.com/Splintered-Lives-Trilogy-Book-ebook/dp/B017RFXY9Y/ref=sr_1_1?s=books&ie=UTF8&qid=1447079283&sr=1-1&keywords=Splintered+Lives%2C+Joseph+Lewis  

Book One, Stolen Lives:

Two thirteen year old boys are abducted off a safe suburban street. Kelliher and his team of FBI agents has 24 hours to find them or they’ll end up like all the others- dead!

http://www.amazon.com/Stolen-Lives-Trilogy-Book-ebook/dp/B00PKKN6W4/ref=sr_1_1?s=books&ie=UTF8&qid=1415927661&sr=1-1&keywords=stolen+Lives%2C+Joseph+Lewis  

Book Two, Shattered Lives:

Six men escaped and are out for revenge. The boys, recently freed from captivity, are in danger and so are their families. The FBI has no clues, no leads, and nothing to go on and because of that, cannot protect them.

http://www.amazon.com/Shattered-Lives-Trilogy-Book-ebook/dp/B00UZRP828/ref=sr_1_3?s=books&ie=UTF8&qid=1426952407&sr=1-3&keywords=Shattered+Lives%2C+Joseph+Lewis  

Prequel, Taking Lives:

FBI Agent Pete Kelliher and his partner search for the clues behind the bodies of six boys left in various and remote parts of the country. Even though they live in separate parts of the country, the lives of FBI Kelliher, 11 year old Brett McGovern, and 11 year old George Tokay are separate pieces of a puzzle. The two boys become interwoven with the same thread that Pete Kelliher holds in his hand. The three of them are on a collision course and when that happens, their futures grow dark and dreadful as each search for a way out.

http://www.amazon.com/gp/product/B00MG2JAWE?ie=UTF8&at=aw-android-pc-us-20&force-full-site=1&ref_=aw_bottom_links 

Kaleidoscope

One of my favorite things to do and one of the things I looked forward to as a kid was the annual summer trip with my parents, usually just my dad, to the Washington County Fair. Now, it’s not the biggest fair in the world, but when you’re a kid, a red snow cone, a corn dog, some cotton candy, and a Ferris Wheel, life is good.  Real good.  Heck, I would even put up with going into the animal barns to satisfy my dad as long as he’d take us.

Dad would give us a couple of bucks and we’d try our luck throwing a softball at three bottles and if we’d knock them down, we’d get a small prize.  The catch was that to get one of the big stuffed animals hanging from inside the canopy, we’d have to knock down the three bottles a couple more times.  Of course we’d try, and my dad would stand back, fold his arms and smile, knowing that it would be next to impossible to do.  In retrospect, I never saw more than one or two big stuffed animals clutched in the arms of any of the fair goers, young, old or in between.  No, I, and they, would usually just take home the small prize.

Many times, the small prize was a Kaleidoscope.

Made out of plastic. Generally a bright color. Rarely bigger than the palm of your hand. Made cheaply. Certainly not made to last. But I liked them just the same.

It wasn’t until I was much older that I understood that the “pictures” in the Kaleidoscope were formed by broken bits of paper.  You’d turn the Kaleidoscope a small turn and the little broken bits would form a geometrical formation.  You’d turn it another small turn, and the little broken bits would form yet a different formation. And another and another.

One after the other. One pretty design, followed by another pretty design.  All from a simple turn of the fingers and wrist and all because the little broken bits worked just right.

Much later in life, I saw some amazingly beautiful Kaleidoscopes made out of brass. Golden or silver and much more heavy and sturdy than the little plastic ones we picked up at the county fair. But the principle was the same.  Little broken bits of many colors would shape up and turn into a beautiful design with just the twist of one’s fingers.

I learned something from the Kaleidoscope.

No matter how torn the little bits, no matter how broken the little bits, each worked together to form a beautiful design or picture with very little effort. It only took the desire to use one’s fingers and a slight turn of the wrist to make it happen. And happen again, and again, with each turn, with each twist.

We . . . all of us . . . are much like the Kaleidoscope.

We come to work each day, move into and out of each other’s lives with broken hearts, damaged dreams, sometimes with torn spirits. We work with people, we work with kids, who have equally broken hearts, damaged dreams, and with sometimes torn spirits.  Each of us.  Every day.  Day after day.

But like the Kaleidoscope, each of us, individually, and collectively, can be and are beautiful. With just the turn of the fingers and a turn of the wrist, with very little effort on our part, the broken, the damaged, the torn can be beautiful.  Because within our humble frame, we are beautiful in spite of what others might say.

So as we enter this very important season of giving and sharing, remember that the humble plastic of our beings houses sometimes broken bits that become beautiful. Even those of us who have shiny and pretty shells, have within us, broken and damaged and torn parts.  But each of us can, with very little effort, help turn us . . . and each other . . . into the beautiful designs we were meant to be, and more importantly, most assuredly, yes, most assuredly, that which we are.  Something to think about . . .

To My Readers:

In time for the Holidays and Holiday Shopping . . .

From An Enthusiastic Reader:

“These are some of the most amazing books I have ever read. I'm working on the last one now and have been waiting ever so impatiently for it to come out lol I started with the prequel and the other ones were out already, with the exception of the last one, which is now. From that book I went straight to downloading the rest of them and read them back to back. I couldn't put it down. If you are someone who likes to read I highly recommend these books!”

Book Three, Splintered Lives:

A 14 year old boy has a price on his head, but he and his family don’t know it. Their vacation turns into a trip to hell. Out gunned and outnumbered, can this boy protect his father and brothers? Without knowing who these men are? Or how many there are? Or when they might come for him? Book Three of the Lives Trilogy, Splintered Lives, is now available in ebook and paperback on Amazon, free on Kindle Unlimited. http://www.amazon.com/Splintered-Lives-Trilogy-Book-ebook/dp/B017RFXY9Y/ref=sr_1_1?s=books&ie=UTF8&qid=1447079283&sr=1-1&keywords=Splintered+Lives%2C+Joseph+Lewis  

And if you need to catch up on the series, the previous books of the Lives Trilogy are available:

Book One, Stolen Lives:

Two thirteen year old boys are abducted off a safe suburban street. Kelliher and his team of FBI agents has 24 hours to find them or they’ll end up like all the others- dead!

http://www.amazon.com/Stolen-Lives-Trilogy-Book-ebook/dp/B00PKKN6W4/ref=sr_1_1?s=books&ie=UTF8&qid=1415927661&sr=1-1&keywords=stolen+Lives%2C+Joseph+Lewis  

Book Two, Shattered Lives:

Six men escaped and are out for revenge. The boys, recently freed from captivity, are in danger and so are their families. The FBI has no clues, no leads, and nothing to go on and because of that, cannot protect them.

http://www.amazon.com/Shattered-Lives-Trilogy-Book-ebook/dp/B00UZRP828/ref=sr_1_3?s=books&ie=UTF8&qid=1426952407&sr=1-3&keywords=Shattered+Lives%2C+Joseph+Lewis  

Prequel, Taking Lives:

FBI Agent Pete Kelliher and his partner search for the clues behind the bodies of six boys left in various and remote parts of the country. Even though they live in separate parts of the country, the lives of FBI Kelliher, 11 year old Brett McGovern, and 11 year old George Tokay are separate pieces of a puzzle. The two boys become interwoven with the same thread that Pete Kelliher holds in his hand. The three of them are on a collision course and when that happens, their futures grow dark and dreadful as each search for a way out.

http://www.amazon.com/gp/product/B00MG2JAWE?ie=UTF8&at=aw-android-pc-us-20&force-full-site=1&ref_=aw_bottom_links  

Appreciate The Large And The Small

Last night I made a pot of chili. It’s one of my favorite dishes, and my family likes it, too. Generally, it’s spicy and on the hot side, which is just right for Hannah and me, kinda sorta all right for Emily, and too hot for Kim. But honestly, I don’t know how else to make it.

My idea of cooking is to throw stuff in the pot. I never measure any of the ingredients, but rather, just dump. My tendency towards various peppers and spices gets me in trouble with Kim. Sorry about that.

But the best part of the meal, any meal really, is the conversation and the laughter that takes place around the table. A lot of laughter. Even after the meal has been eaten, we sit around amongst the dirty dishes, the used glasses and silverware, and share stories and laugh.

I have to tell you that our youngest, Emily, is kind of a split personality. Don’t be fooled by her! She presents herself as reserved and quiet, actually rather serious. A deep thinker and concentrated observer of the Large And The Small that takes place around her. But, she is the comedian of the family. She takes everything in and spills it out with a catchy comment that makes us burst out laughing. She and Hannah can resemble Laurel and Hardy at times, much to Kim’s and my delight.

And while the conversation and laughter around the dinner table doesn’t seem like much, it has become one of my favorite things in life. Much like as adults, sitting around the living room exchanging stories and jokes and catching up with brothers and sisters, or as a kid, listening to the conversations that took place amongst the older group. All the “Remember when’s” and the “How about the time when . . .” All of that.

As I’ve gotten older, I’ve come to Appreciate The Large And The Small in my life. Mostly The Small.

I love sunrises and sunsets. I love walking in the school cafeteria at lunch listening to the conversations of the kids. Sometimes I join in, other times, I listen as I stroll by. I enjoy music. All kinds, really, except for the type of jazz that has an improbable melody or doesn’t know when to end. I love food and that’s probably why I look the way I do. I like pictures and paintings of quiet forests, of trails and of roads that seem to disappear that make me wonder what lies around the bend. I like the fluffy cotton ball clouds that float in a blue sky. I like rugged mountain scenes forested in green or snow capped.

I like books that take me away to unknown places with characters that become real to me. I like movies that keep me guessing and on the edge of my seat.

I like the peace and quiet of early mornings, sitting alone in the family room doing, well, nothing.

And as I get older and walk along the downward slope of the mountain, I’ve come to Appreciate those individuals who walked into my life and made a difference, who caused me to laugh, who made me think. I’ve come to Appreciate those individuals who have encouraged me to continue, to keep moving forward. I’ve come to Appreciate those individuals who have lent me a hand to lift me up time and time again. I’ve come to Appreciate those individuals who gave me a shoulder to lean on, an ear for listening, and most of all, their presence when I needed to be with and around someone.

Seems like each of us has something to be thankful for. Seems like each of us can find something to Appreciate, Large And Small. We just have to look- not so much with our eyes as much as with our heart. Because I believe it is with the heart that we come to Appreciate The Large And The Small that make up our lives. Something to think about . . .

To My Readers:

My new book, the third and final book of The Lives Trilogy, Splintered Lives, is now available on Amazon, free with Kindle Unlimited. The paperback version should be coming shortly.  The synopsis is as follows:

It began on the Navajo Indian Reservation when a fourteen year old boy, George Tokay, witnessed and reported the murder of a Caucasian boy his own age. Kelliher and his team of FBI agents solved that crime, which led to the freedom of thirty boys who were abducted off safe suburban streets and held in captivity, some for more than two years. The FBI thought the boys were safe and so did their parents. After all, arrest warrants were served and members of the human trafficking ring were arrested. That is, except for three dangerous men with absolutely nothing to lose.

These three men arrange for a handsome reward if fourteen year old Brett, one of the boys who had been held captive, is killed. Brett has no idea that he, his younger brother, and his friend, another former captive, are targets. But more than anyone else, these three men vow revenge on George, whom they blame for forcing them to run and go into hiding. What was to be a fun-filled vacation with his newly adopted family, turns into a nightmare and ends where it started, back on the Navajo Indian Reservation high up on a mesa held sacred by George and his grandfather.

Outnumbered and out gunned, George is willing to make the ultimate sacrifice, but can he protect his father and his brothers from these dangerous men before that happens? Can he save them without knowing who these men are or where they might be? Or when they might attack? Can George trust his friends whom he reaches out to for help? Is he prepared for betrayal that leads to his heartbreak and possible death?

Splintered Lives can be found at:

http://www.amazon.com/Splintered-Lives-Trilogy-Book-ebook/dp/B017RFXY9Y/ref=sr_1_1?s=books&ie=UTF8&qid=1447079283&sr=1-1&keywords=Splintered+Lives%2C+Joseph+Lewis