Intro format 2

As a child, I idolized my father; as a teenager, I resented his endless penny-pinching—no air conditioning, a black-and-white TV, and store-to-store coupon hunts. I felt only the confusion and frustration, aware that our home lagged behind the comforts my friends took for granted. I didn’t understand his methods at the time. Years later, though, the picture became clear: the grocery trips, the careful budgeting, all painted a portrait of a man shaped by hardship, quietly giving everything he could. What once seemed stingy was, in truth, love in disguise.

contented

Finding Joy in the Now

I spent years chasing the next season—summer break, holidays, even retirement—as if joy was always waiting just around the corner. Too often, those moments fell short of the anticipation. With time, I’ve learned the best days aren’t out ahead. Joy shows up in the ones we’re already living.

Close-up-Portrait-Of-A-Man-In-His-Mid-50s-Sitting

A Brunch of Thoughts

In a neighborhood of big houses, our modest starter home became the gathering spot for our boys’ friends. Maybe it wasn’t the square footage, but the warmth. Contentment isn’t in extravagance—it’s found in the quiet places that feel like home.

Two children having fun with colorful doughnuts as eyeglasses indoors.

The Challenge of Not Being Foolish

When it comes to my health, I’ve made more than my share of foolish choices. For years I shrugged them off—until my doctor laid the truth out in numbers I couldn’t laugh away. Sugar isn’t only hiding in sodas or candy; sometimes it’s right there in the “healthy” things I thought I was choosing. That reality check stung, but it also gave me space to be honest, both with her and with myself. Foolishness doesn’t vanish overnight. But admitting it is the beginning—and choosing a better path, even slowly, is how it finally starts to fade.