My earliest memory involves the snow. And my Dad. Shortly after I discovered the miracle of walking, I was outside trying to follow my Dad around in several feet of new powder. Struggling to step into the footprints he was making in front of me. Suddenly, I missed a step and fell into the formless snow where I sunk over my head and floundered. The snow began to close over me. Panicked, I screamed for help and two then-giant arms immediately snatched me from my predicament. My Dad. Superhero.
Me floundering. Dad there to help. A scene that would repeat itself every so often.
A few years ago, I had the notion that I would write a booklet of memories for my Dad. Including this first one. He just loved it. Three years later he was gone. My Epic tip today is twofold. Listen to your "notions" and act on them. Second, if you are lucky like me and had great parents, tell them. You don't have to write it. Just tell it. Don't leave it up to intuition or nonverbal communication. Even if you would rather poke yourself in the eye than speak of how much they mean to you. If I, a product of noncommunicative Norwegian culture, could do it, so can you. The benefit to them will be immediate. The benefit to you will come a while later, when you are the one in the lead, making the footprints.
The Exception: The White Jean
16 hours ago