How much of life’s meandering journey do you remember? Chances are you can sit around the dinner table for hours and reminisce about the major events—weddings, funerals, the birth of a child, your favorite sport team winning a championship, or your crazy uncle screaming “Congratulations!” at your college graduation. I’m betting, though, you carry around a large collection of more personal moments. These may not be as public as others, but they can be as equally memorable and life changing. For example, in an earlier column I wrote about the “night of the mouse grenade,” an occasion I’ll never forget. (See a link to that column below.)

As I return to doing my monthly column (more on this in the “November News from Steve” section below), I thought I’d share a few of the more treasured “Small Moments” that either shaped me, taught me a lesson, or simply brought a smile.

The “You’re Better than Millar” Declaration: My son Andy and I once attended a minor-league baseball game here in Richmond. We were excited to see the AAA affiliate of our beloved Red Sox. On the Pawtucket Red Sox roster was a first baseman named Brian Daubach, who was one of Andy’s favorite players. Over the previous off-season, the Big-League Red Sox had acquired Kevin Millar, and Daubach found himself assigned to the minor leagues. Early in the game Daubach was in the on-deck circle, and Andy bellowed “Hey Daubach, you’re better than Millar!” Daubach, who had spent most of the previous four seasons playing in Boston, looked over his shoulder and flashed a small smile. My guess is he was wondering “who is this kid in a AAA outpost shouting about my baseball career?” My heart swelled with pride. I’d turned my son into a Red Sox fan who could complain about the roster on a nuanced level. I also shuddered with fear. This was before the Red Sox starting winning championships in the 2000’s and were in the habit of losing in the most heartbreaking or demoralizing ways possible. I asked myself “what have I done? This poor kid is going to suffer his entire life.” Either way, I’ll always remember Andy sticking up for his guy.

I’m going to add another event here as an honorable mention. When he was four years old, Andy and I attended a game at the same ballpark and a man three rows away was smoking a cigarette. Andy stood, stretched his three-foot body to its full height, pointed, and said, “Dad, that man’s smoking. He’s going to die!” The sound of his voice travelling across the grandstand at the Richmond Diamond was the first time one of my offspring made me want to crawl into a hole and hide (another is recounted in the “That’s Okay, You’re Unique” incident below.)

The Hampton Thunderstorm: Back in my college days my buddy Rick and I visited Hampton Beach in New Hampshire. After a great day of swimming and body surfing, we retreated to the house of a mutual friend. While we were there, a massive thunderstorm crossed over the area. Being in our early twenties and prone to more risk than the average person, we decided to watch the show. We weren’t dumb enough to sit on the beach, but we did settle onto a screened-in porch and watch massive bolts of lightening streak across the sky and stretch to the water’s surface. The lightning combined with the booming thunder, rain falling in sheets, and violent waves, to provide a magnificent display of nature’s strength and beauty. I’ve tried to duplicate the experience many times. Each attempt has been unsuccessful, probably because I have half a brain now and tend to stay inside behind sturdy walls during violent weather. Ah, the memories of youth.

The “That’s Okay, You’re Unique” Incident: Before we start, there’s something about our youngest child you should know. Leland is not what you would call a shy person. This was especially true in his younger days. We were never surprised when he would introduce some new friend he’d discovered in a public restroom or walking through a restaurant. I should also add Leland would often say whatever crossed his mind. There was no filter. With this backdrop, allow me to relay the following story. When Leland was somewhere around six years old, the two of us were waiting for a flight at Baltimore airport. I was rearranging some things in my backpack when I noticed Leland heading towards a young man a few feet away. Being a protective dad, I scanned the situation. The instant I noticed the guy had only one arm, I feared the upcoming interaction. I watched in horror as Leland marched up to the stranger and bluntly asked, “What happened to your arm?” The man, who I’m sure is on the list for sainthood, responded with a benevolent “I was born this way.” Leland nodded before declaring, “That’s okay, it makes you unique.” The guy smiled and agreed. My sigh of relief almost caused me to collapse. More importantly, I learned Leland has a positive outlook on life. It was a great step forward in my parental education.

The “How Far Away is the Sun?” Inquiry: Many years ago, a Senior Executive asked me a question, demanding an answer on the spot. I offered the information I had, marched into my boss’s office, and complained there was no way I could provide a satisfactory response in the time provided. He looked at me and asked, “how far away is the sun?” Startled, I thought back to elementary school and replied, “About 93,000,000 miles.” He leaned back in his chair. “Thank you. If I gave you more time, could you provide a more accurate measurement?” When I answered yes, I could do some research and get a precise number, he shook his head. “I didn’t give you an opportunity for that. Neither did John (a fake name.) All you can do is your best given the time and resources you’re provided.” That day I learned a valuable lesson. As Teddy Roosevelt once said, “Do what you can, with what you’ve got, where you are.”

The “Day Off From What?” Question: Allow me to set the scene. It’s the second week of August, a few years after I retired from my corporate job. My wife and I are on a cruise visiting Italy and Croatia. With us are our daughter Erin and son-in-law Noah. About three days in, we were enjoying dinner in the luxurious dining room and discussing upcoming activities. As part of the conversation, I was reminded that the next day was “at sea” with no tours or excursions on the schedule. At this point in the trip, I was still reeling from jet lag and the non-stop activities since we’d landed a few days before. Through my fatigue, I blurted out something along the lines of, “All I know is I’m beat up. Tomorrow’s my day off.” Erin looked across the table. “Dad! You’re retired and on a cruise. What exactly are you taking a day off from?” I still laugh when I think about her just-turned-thirty wisdom. I mean, really? I’m worried about being tired while on vacation with loving family members, in a beautiful part of the world, where the food is legendary? Yep, perspective is everything.

The Kiss on the Cheek: I included a fictionalized reference to this moment as part of my novel Into the Room. On the day Leland was born, my wife Kathy leaned across the bed, gave me a light kiss on the cheek, and said, “You’re good at days like this.” Now, I’m sure more than a few readers think I included this because Kathy’s gesture made me feel good about myself. Ah, no. I’m her husband. Me being there to support her when she’s having a kid is a baseline expectation. I better be good at it. What amazes me about the kiss is that, given what would soon be occurring, I even crossed her mind. At this point, Kathy had been on bed rest for close to five months, was about to deliver her third baby, and was thoroughly aware of the potential health risks involved in childbirth. If I was her, my thoughts would have been simple— “Get this thing out of me. While you’re at it, limit the pain and keep me healthy. And Steve better not breathe peanuts on me like he did with Erin.” Instead, she recognized I was part of the equation. I’ll always cherish that she took a minute to express her love.

I could go on forever. The events I’ve discussed above were pulled from a list of over twenty-five. Of course, I’m a mere sixty-two years old and I’m hoping the list will grow.

How about you? Are there any you’d like to share? If so, I’d love to hear from you in the comments section of this post. And, as always, thank you for reading.

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As promised, here’s a link to the “night of the mouse grenade”: “The Fishing Trip.”

Steven Rogers’ award-winning novel “Into the Room” is available in paperback, on Kindle, and as an audiobook. If you’d like to order a copy, please visit Amazon or his website:  https://steven-rogers.com/

November News from Steve

If you’re a regular reader, you know almost a year has passed since my last post. This is because I took some time away to complete my second novel. The picture to the left is me signing a contract with Elk Lake Publishing for my book A Year in the Room, a sequel to my award-winning novel Into the Room. I’ll post more information about the publication date as we complete the schedule.

Speaking of Into the Room, the holidays are coming, and, if I do say so myself, the book is a terrific gift idea. You can purchase paperback copies, a Kindle version, and/or the audiobook on Amazon. If you would a more personalized present, for $20 I will mail you a signed copy of the Into the Room, along with a customized inscription, anywhere in the continental United States. For additional information, email me at srbooksforhope@gmail.com. Please allow five to six days for delivery.

If you enjoy my columns and don’t want to miss one, please subscribe by filling out the “Follow Steve” block on my website: https://steven-rogers.com/.

Book of the Month

I recently read A Journey of Survival by Asher Bar-Nir. This non-fiction account of a boy’s experiences during the holocaust offers insight into life in the Jewish ghetto, transport to Auschwitz, survival in the concentration camps, the horrors of a forced death march, and emigration to Israel. The reader learns the stark reality of how a simple piece of bread or the type of shoe a prisoner received was often the difference between life and death. Bar-Nir’s straight-forward writing style offers a glimpse into the pain of never-ending hunger, the brutality of forced labor, and the chaotic post-war political and social climate. This book helped me appreciate the resiliency of the human spirit and the incredible blessings I enjoy each day.

A Journey of Survival is available on Amazon.

Thank you for reading!