Conclusion

I hope some of what you read was interesting and maybe even thought-provoking. I want you to know that I had an ideal childhood, and I aspired to give that to my children. I think I came close to achieving that goal.

       My childhood was about growing up with a super-competitive father and a cool older brother who was naturally good at everything he did. My brother Bill was good at every sport he played, and he challenged me to practice more than he did if I wanted to keep up.

       Dad was always patient in teaching us all the sports, and he was a master at letting us win just enough that we wanted to keep playing. He knew if we never won, we would likely lose interest. All my dad ever wanted to do was to play with us. Steve, Bill, and I grew up to play soccer, baseball, basketball, tennis, racquetball, ping pong, and pool. Not to mention all the card games Dad would play with us. All while Mom was taking care of all of our other needs. Mom would make you the perfect sandwich without even asking if you wanted one, and she didn’t just make a sandwich—it was a piece of art. Lightly toasted bread, plenty of ham or turkey or both with the perfect proportion of Swiss cheese, and always crispy lettuce, thinly sliced tomato, and a smear of mayonnaise—Hellman’s for me and Miracle Whip for Steve.

       Steve and I were seven years old, and Bill was ten when Mom and Dad told us we were moving for the first time. Our moves always strengthened the family. I think the first move was the easiest for me because of how young I was. It was more traumatic the older I got. Leaving Texas to move to Scottsdale, Arizona, was a lot more difficult because I was twelve years old, in seventh grade, and so unsure of myself. But I never had to go to a new school or the first day of soccer practice all by myself because I always had Steve to go with me since we were twins.

       Looking back at the moves we made, they were always for Dad’s work as he worked his way up the corporate ladder and excelled in each position he took. Dad was a thinker and a planner—I don’t think of him as a risk-taker, but I didn’t really know him until I grew up. He was thirty-five years old, and Mom was thirty-four when they moved away from everything they knew to Texas, over 1500 miles away. That was risky. As usual, though, Dad found a way to put his positive spin on everything. He would find a way to make it fun for us while he took on most of the burden.

       When we were fourteen, Steve and I moved to Dallas for Dad’s work, but Bill stayed behind to finish high school, and with that move, everything changed. That move from Scotts dale to Dallas was when I got my own room for the first time. Sure, I missed my big brother, but he was interested in other stuff now anyway, and I finally didn’t have to share a room with Steve. Steve and I would eventually share a dorm room at college for two years and create some of the greatest memories I have today. Who knows, maybe we will share a room again in thirty years.

       I told you I had an ideal family life, but I also told you that I moved from New York to Texas, Texas to Arizona, Arizona back to Texas, and Texas to Louisiana. Each one of those moves was difficult for me and all of us, but our frame of mind was created by Bill and Lucy. Mom and Dad refused to see things as hard. They were just things we were going to do.

       I could have concluded by telling you to use sunscreen every day and not drink soda, which, of course, would be good advice, but now that you have added all of my wonderful knowledge to your big brain, you can decide whether you agree with me or not. And you might not agree with me today, but change your mind when you get older.

       The biggest message your Pop has for you is to do everything and try everything. The only things in life you will regret are the things you don’t reach for. If you can think of it, then you can do it. So start thinking and start doing. Just remember, your Pop loves you and believes in you. But more importantly, you should believe in yourself.

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