Happy Father’s Day! I hope all you dads had a great day.
My family and I spent the first part of our day at church, where our pastor of 40 years preached his final sermon. It was a bittersweet day for thousands of people. Yes, I said thousands. The sanctuary seats 2,500 people, and during the first service, people stood along the walls and filled the overflow chapel.
After church, we came home and had lunch together. I was able to celebrate Father’s Day with all of my children, and I couldn’t have been a happier dad.
After lunch, we loaded up and drove to my parents’ house to celebrate with my dad. Today was not only Father’s Day, but also his birthday. He is now 87 years old and is the last surviving member of his family of four siblings.
For his age, Dad is in remarkably good health. He still gets outside and works in his yard and tinkers with his farming equipment, even though he doesn’t do much farming these days.
We nearly lost both of my parents in 2014 when a woman who wasn’t paying attention crossed the center line on a dangerous curve and hit them head-on. Both of my parents spent several weeks in the ICU. After they were released from the hospital, they stayed with my brother and his wife for several months while continuing their recovery and medical treatments.
Mom never fully recovered from the accident. She still struggles with significant back problems, and Dad has balance issues caused by damage to his inner ear.
They both suffered serious injuries from the seat belts and airbags. While those safety features undoubtedly saved their lives, they can also cause severe injuries during a major collision.
I consider myself incredibly fortunate to still have both of my parents with us. At their age, I know every visit, every conversation, and every holiday together is a gift. I don’t know how much longer I’ll have them around, but I intend to treasure every day that I do.
Days like today are a reminder that family is one of God’s greatest blessings, and I’m thankful for every moment we get to spend together.
It was the first anniversary of their first date, so it was no surprise that they planned to spend the day together. What was surprising was how the day unfolded.
He showed up at her apartment with a dozen red roses, and the two of them headed a couple of hours north. They spent most of the day exploring antique stores and local shops. In fact, they even had lunch inside an old antique store.
Later, they made their way to Little River Falls and spent several hours admiring the beautiful waterfall and enjoying the scenery.
The next stop on the agenda was Cherokee Rock Village. I had never heard of the place before, but apparently it overlooks a lake and offers some breathtaking views.
The proposal was supposed to happen around 3:00 p.m., but when 3:30 came and went without a phone call, we started to wonder if something had gone terribly wrong.
We were on our way to my parents’ house to pick them up for the planned celebration dinner when the call finally came.
She was so excited and emotional that she could barely get the words out. As it turned out, the reason for the delay was simple: there was no cell service at the overlook. Her boyfriend had also arranged for a photographer to capture the moment, and they spent some time afterward taking engagement photos together.
Everything went exactly as planned, and I couldn’t be happier for the two of them.
She made it official this morning by posting pictures on social media. I had promised her that I wouldn’t say anything publicly until after she did.
What she still doesn’t know is that we’ve known for weeks that this was going to happen. I have a feeling she might be a little annoyed when she finds out that small detail.
Now they have us looking at wedding venues on Tuesday. Personally, I think that’s moving a little fast, but it’s not really up to me.
Congratulations to both of them. I wish them all the happiness in the world as they begin this exciting new chapter together.
I have Chronic Myeloid Leukemia (CML). I was diagnosed back in 2014. I’m not going to lie—when I first heard those words, I thought my world had come to an end.
I was devastated. I got depressed. I was angry at everything and everyone.
I couldn’t even carry on a simple conversation without it turning into something it didn’t need to be. In short, I wasn’t exactly easy to live with.
The truth is, everything I felt is something a lot of people experience when they hear the word “cancer.” That flood of emotions hits hard. But what I’ve learned since then is this—there is always hope, no matter the diagnosis.
I follow several CML groups online, and I try to help people who are just starting this journey and struggling to process it all.
Last night, I came across a post from a young woman who had just been diagnosed with CML. She was going through the same emotions I went through—fear, anger, and the overwhelming feeling that her life was over. She had just gotten married and was planning to start a family, but now she was ready to give up on that dream. Her husband, loving her the way he does, was willing to give that up, too.
That hit me.
So I reached out to her privately.
I told her what I wish someone had made crystal clear to me in the beginning: things have changed. Years ago, this diagnosis looked very different. Today, it’s not the same story.
There are medications now that can control this disease. It may not be something that just disappears, but it’s something many people live with—and live well with.
I also told her I understood exactly what she was feeling, because I had been there—the anger, the depression, the uncertainty. And I let her know she didn’t have to go through it alone.
And I told her about this blog—about my life after diagnosis, the ups and downs, the fishing trips, the everyday moments. I wanted her to see that there is still a life to live after hearing those words.
Honestly, I didn’t expect a response.
But she wrote back.
And after several messages, I could tell something had shifted. Knowing that someone else had been walking this road since 2014—and is still here—gave her a different perspective. It even made her reconsider the idea that her future, including having a family, might not be over after all.
That right there is why I share my story.
CML is not a death sentence. It’s a bump in the road. A big one sometimes—but not a roadblock.
My numbers still go up and down like a rollercoaster. Some months are good, some aren’t. But it’s been that way long enough that it doesn’t shake me like it used to.
Life goes on.
And that’s exactly what I told her—live your life. Keep your appointments. Take your medication. Listen to your doctor.
But don’t stop living.
Because this diagnosis doesn’t mean the end of your story.
After 25 years in the organization formerly known as the Boy Scouts of America, I am calling it quits. Tonight, I said my final farewells — not to the many friends I’ve made over the years — but to the organization itself.
Where do I even start with a post like this? After 25 years, I have so many memories, so many stories to tell, and yet I’m at a loss for words. My emotions are all over the place. On one side, there’s anger and frustration. On the other hand, there’s sadness at stepping away from something that was once a cornerstone for teaching core values to young men.
My scoutmaster when I was in scouts many years ago.
When my son crossed over from Cub Scouts into Boy Scouts, there were a lot of uncertainties. Would he enjoy the outdoors? Would he be okay spending his first night in a tent with boys he barely knew — and without his dad right beside him? Suddenly, he was under the supervision of boys — or really, young men — not much older than he was.
During those first meetings, I sat back and watched him interact with the other scouts his age. He had a great time as a Cub Scout, but there he was alongside his mom, working together to earn belt loops and awards. Scouts was different. The parents sat off to the side while the boys were taught the Pledge of Allegiance, the Scout Law, the Scout Oath, and the Outdoor Code — not by adults, but by youth leadership. I was a proud parent the day my son could recite all of them by heart.
As my son grew up in Scouts, so did I.
I was eventually asked to become a leader. At first, I was reluctant, but I quickly realized I could give back by passing on skills I had learned over the years. I taught Plumbing Merit Badge, Photography Merit Badge, and even knots I’d learned working in the HVAC industry. What amazed me most was that, without even realizing it, I was getting to spend time with my son. Maybe not one-on-one, but we were there together, learning and growing at the same time.
My son eventually earned the rank of Eagle Scout — during a time when I was serving as his Scoutmaster, a role I had stepped into years earlier. It was one of the proudest days of my life. Because he hadn’t turned eighteen yet, he stayed active and served as Senior Patrol Leader.
Then came a weeklong campout on the outskirts of the Great Smoky Mountains.
My sons troop while I was the scoutmaster. Can you pick him out?
On the final night, the boys gathered around the campfire for skits and reflections. Then it was my son’s turn to speak. He announced it would be his last campout with the troop. He would turn eighteen in a few weeks and would be aging out. His plan was to go off to college, and Scouts wasn’t part of that plan.
My heart sank.
The building where we met was torn down.
For six years, we camped, hiked, cooked, climbed — you name it. Maybe it wasn’t one-on-one, but we were together. When lights out came and I finished my rounds, I went back to my tent, and I broke down and sobbed.
But the story didn’t end there.
I stayed involved because I had completed a lot of leadership training, and I felt like I still had something to give back to the program.
One of our Cub Scouts is building a birdhouse
There was a need in our district for someone to take over Eagle Board responsibilities. This committee helps guide young men in selecting meaningful Eagle projects and conducts Eagle Boards of Review — sitting down with candidates to talk about their Scouting journey and their Eagle project. I wish I had known how long I would stay in that role, because I would have kept count of how many young men earned Eagle while I was there.
Over the years, I wore many hats in Scouting — none of which I regret.
As the organization changed, though, so did my attitude. There were changes that simply didn’t make sense to me. The main reason I stayed as long as I did was that the core program still worked, regardless of the decisions being made at higher levels.
One of the many awards that I achieved while a leader.
Apparently, I wasn’t alone in my concerns. Membership dropped like a rock. In my district, we went from twelve troops to five during the years of major changes. Tonight, that number dropped from five to three. Our two combined troops folded due to a lack of leadership and membership growth. After tonight, I don’t see how our district survives without eventually merging into another.
I’ve asked myself, “Who’s to blame?” That’s not something I really want to dive into.
Troop 322 and Troop 41 combined to form one troop
But I will say this — it wasn’t because local leaders didn’t try.
Follow the money.
Charging $120 per year just to join, plus around $325 for a week at summer camp, is a lot. Many families simply can’t afford it — especially if they have more than one child in Scouts. And that doesn’t even include troop outings, which can run anywhere from $15 to $45 per trip. Many of these kids are being raised by single parents
Just one of the many young men who achieved the rank of Eagle.
Yes, Scouts can sell popcorn to help offset costs. But it’s hard to sell a $25 box of popcorn with six bags in it when families can buy the same brand at the store for $7 and get twelve bags. And when an adult tells a scout it’s “highway robbery,” what do you say to a seven-year-old who just got scolded by a stranger? It’s not their fault. They’re just trying to raise money to help pay their dues.
The last night at one of our summer camps. The boys always had a blast.
And when only about 32% of the profit gets split among the scouts working that shift, it makes it even harder.
Meanwhile, councils raise tens of thousands of dollars — and districts often see very little of it. I know there’s overhead. But it does make you wonder where the money goes.
Sorry — not sorry — for the tangent.
That’s the angry part of this story. I try not to dwell on it, but it does get under my skin.
Because at the end of the day, the program still works. It’s just becoming a program that fewer families can afford. And if something doesn’t change, Scouting could fade away.
Not to worry, though. The boys in the two troops will be going to one of the two troops still active. With determination, I feel that all the boys will stay in it long enough to earn the rank of Eagle.
And that would be a real shame.
Just a day at Summer CampThe last scout that my team interviewed for the rank of Eagle
I felt so bad for one of my daughters today. We upgraded their phones a few days ago and they were supposed to have come in yesterday. FedEx tried to deliver them yesterday but no one was home to receive them. So today my girls stayed home all day just so that they would be home to receive their new phones. FedEx came and they opened their new phones only to find that one of the phones had my wife’s number. When ordering their new upgrades I made the mistake and marked the wrong phone to be upgraded. My daughter was devastated. I arrived home in the middle of mass chaos. My wife was on the phone with the carrier trying to explain to them what happened but they were unable to help. We ended up going to the phone store and after explaining to them what happened and about another hour and a half of computer work we finally got it swapped. But there was a price. The upgrade my wife was going to get later on won’t happen because I used her upgrade by accident when I screwed up and ordered the phone with the wrong number.
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