I would say I’m not a quitter, but I am. It’s very hard to admit because
I’ve always prided myself on going the distance, above and beyond, do or die.
In thinking both ahead and behind of where I am right now,
it’s clear to see that I am indeed a quitter.
And, I’m sad about it. I always thought better of myself.

“You know the Greeks didn't write obituaries. They only asked one question after a man died: 'Did he have passion?'”
—Dean, from the movie Serendipity—

I wrote the following words, which somewhat turned into a poem about passion, several years ago. I had just come off of a weeklong trip of solitude and writing. In addition, I was enjoying newly found success in my weight-loss journey, as I fit into size-10 jeans, a huge improvement from the previous size18s. I felt alive and happy and I was filled with hope.

By now I hope your New Year’s resolution (NYR) is in full swing. If you’ve chosen weight loss
as your goal (which is the No. 1 NYR) you, like many, may have chosen the All or None Approach, because that’s just who you are. So obviously, you have managed to discard every cookie, popsicle, potato, rice, potato chip, pasta, bread slice and morsel of chocolate that you could find in your home. You have gone to the gym every day since January 2, and you are contemplating staring into the pantry to figure out how to make something deliciously sweet with a one packet of Sweet’n Low, apricot preserves someone gave you two years ago for Christmas, peanut butter and a high-fiber, low carb English muffin. You are living on the edge with your extreme plan that is sure to soon fail.

“Nothing is so strong as gentleness. Nothing is so gentle as real strength.”
—St. Francis de Sales—

When my son was in the fourth grade, his teacher told him, “Life’s tough. Get a helmet.” At the time I agreed. Life is tough, and we have to muscle through it, especially the tough times. That’s how I was raised—to get ‘er done no matter what. To a certain degree, I believe this to be true. In hard times, the strong get stronger. You have to in order to make it.

Children are to be seen and not heard.
I can’t tell you how many times I heard that from my father when I was growing up.
I really never bought into it, but you can bet I immediately
shrank into the woodwork when he said it.
I knew, in no uncertain terms, that he meant to be quiet and behave,
and that meant now!
I also knew that if I didn’t, I would be the one on the losing end.

I had the pleasure of going to church with my friends in Florence, S.C. It was a beautiful Episcopal church built in 1864 with a conservative, formal service laced with all the pomp and circumstance. However, the scenery across the isle from me was far from pretty.

Enter a very nice-looking family; the mother, father and two little girls dressed in monogrammed matching “sister” dresses. They looked adorable until the little one’s head spun around a full 360˚. That’s when I reached for my pew seatbelt—you know the one that restrains judgment on others—and settled in for the show. I don’t like horror shows, but this one unfolded right before my eyes.