WHAT DOES SUCCESS LOOK LIKE?

WHAT DOES SUCCESS LOOK LIKE?

Sometimes we let events come and then we react. And for the most part, we have been very successful. We have a strong company, and great leadership. Sometimes the unexpected happens, and we are blindsided and left numb. Whether it is an illness, a disgruntled guest, misunderstood communications, unanswered e-mails, or budget overrun, we run for cover, consultation, or rationalize the situation to others and ourselves. It's in these times that we need to remind ourselves - what does success look like?

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Resolution

Resolution

Mom, though it has been many years since these events have occurred, I think of them often and wonder why you did what you did. 

What events?

Well, when I was in eight grade and on the CYO Basketball team, I was one of their star players. We had a great season, and we were on our way to the championship. The championship game was set for Saturday, and we were all thrilled. When I told you about the game, you told me that I could not go because we were expected at Pop-Pop and Nanny’s home for dinner in Philadelphia.

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THE UNWRAPPED PRESENT

THE UNWRAPPED PRESENT

At this time of year, I often reflect on the Christmas mornings growing up in Lawrenceville, New Jersey - the opening of presents, the wrapping paper flying everywhere, the smell of freshly brewed coffee, the sound of bacon sizzling on the stove, Christmas songs playing on the stereo, and the many hugs and smiles from my grandparents, aunts and uncles, cousins and friends dropping in throughout the day. But there is one Christmas in particular that I recall each year. A Christmas morning that changed my life.

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THE UNWRAPPED PRESENT

THE UNWRAPPED PRESENT

At this time of year, I often reflect on the Christmas mornings growing up in Lawrenceville, New Jersey - the opening of presents, the wrapping paper flying everywhere, the smell of freshly brewed coffee, the sound of bacon sizzling on the stove, Christmas songs playing on the stereo, and the many hugs and smiles from my grandparents, aunts and uncles, cousins and friends dropping in throughout the day. But there is one Christmas in particular that I recall each year. A Christmas morning that changed my life.

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THIS TIME OF THE YEAR

THIS TIME OF THE YEAR

This time of the year is marked with certain time-honored traditions.

Purchasing of gifts for those near and far. Attending holiday parties with friends and family members. Packing up the car to make extended trips. Baking cookies, making pies, and taking out Grandma’s recipe of sweet potato casserole – the one with mini-marshmallows.

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THE MISSING PIECE OF PIE

THE MISSING PIECE OF PIE

There is a missing piece of pie served at my holiday feast, and I’m not sure why.
• Did someone sneak into the refrigerator last night for a midnight snack?
• Did someone skip the ham and go straight to dessert?
• Maybe someone dropped the pie and put back what was left to cover their tracks?

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THE THANKSGIVING LETTER

THE THANKSGIVING LETTER

It is nearly dusk as the sun greets the orange and blue horizon over Boston Harbor.  Judy and her daughter, Michelle, cuddled together on their living room couch. Michelle, just three years old, draws her baby doll closely to her chest, and holds her mother's hand tightly. 

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COLLEGE LETTERS

COLLEGE LETTERS

During my freshman year at Boston College, I received many letters from family and friends.  At first, I received about a dozen or so letters each week; mostly from my high school buddies relaying their college experiences. I would dutifully write back and describe my classes, friends, and the overall experience of attending Boston College.

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THE UNWRAPPED PRESENT

THE UNWRAPPED PRESENT

At this time of year, I often reflect on the Christmas mornings growing up in Lawrenceville, New Jersey - the opening of presents, the wrapping paper flying everywhere, the smell of freshly brewed coffee, the sound of bacon sizzling on the stove, Christmas songs playing on the stereo, and the many hugs and smiles from my grandparents, aunts and uncles, cousins and friends dropping in throughout the day. But there is one Christmas in particular that I recall each year. A Christmas morning that changed my life.

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THE THANKSGIVING STORY

THE THANKSGIVING STORY

It is nearly dusk as the sun greets the orange and blue horizon over Boston Harbor.   Judy and her daughter, Michelle, are cuddled together on the living room couch. Michelle, just three years old, draws her baby doll closely to her chest, and holds her mother's hand tightly.

With their Thanksgiving feast now complete, family and friends gathered to listen to the traditional reading of "The Thanksgiving Letter."

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RUNNING OUT OF TIME

RUNNING OUT OF TIME

It has been another long week.  Your job, overall, is going well.  The job pays the bills, provides benefits for the family and allows you to save something for the future. But at times, the job takes its toll on life outside of work.  Yes, there are times when you have missed your child's sporting events, or it's been over a month since you have been out with your friends. And there was that time the you almost scheduled a business trip on your wedding anniversary or missed wishing your mom a "Happy Birthday."  But overall, you feel you have managed well over the years to achieve a good work/family balance.

However, this is not the case for Steve and his son Billy. It's 8:30 PM as Steve finally arrives home.  Eight-year-old Billy, Steve's "best buddy," is in his pajamas and ready for bed. Upon hearing the door open, Billy runs to see his Dad.

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THE MAN IN THE RED BANDANA

THE MAN IN THE RED BANDANA

After the horrific events of 9/11, The New York Times published survivor's accounts of the South Tower of the World Trade Center. Many survivors spoke of some angel, some young man coming out of the smoke and fire on 104th floor wearing a red bandana around his face, and yelling in a calm and commanding voice,
 
"Follow me. I found the staircase. If you can help someone else, then help them."

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THE LAST TIME

THE LAST TIME

If I knew it was the last time I would see you, I would have I stayed longer by your side;

If I knew it was the last time I would talk with you, I would have listened more and asked better questions;

If I knew it was the last time I would laugh with you, I would have laughed harder and louder.

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EMBRACING TIME

EMBRACING TIME

While on vacation, I went on a bike ride with my four-year-old daughter, Veronica. With her riding in a wheeled buggy attached to my bike, we rode the local bike trails. 
 
It was a beautiful day. The temperature was cool, the sun bright, and a slight warm breeze embraced us during our ride.

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MAKING THE RIGHT CALL

MAKING THE RIGHT CALL

On the morning of January 24, 2013, Kerry Drake was flying home to see his dying mother. The last-minute flight would get him there in time to see his mother only if the entire schedule was on time, and allowed a 40-minute connection. 
 
While flying on the first flight segment, Kerry received an update from the airline captain that the flight would arrive late. He realized at that point, he would miss his connecting flight and would not be able to make it to his mother's side in time. Kerry, sitting in his airline seat, started to cry uncontrollably. 

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THE LADYBUG, SQUIRREL, AND EAGLE

THE LADYBUG, SQUIRREL, AND EAGLE

They came to me a dream - a very strange dream indeed.  A ladybug, a squirrel and an eagle, each one appeared and shared advice.  To this day, I am not sure why.
 
Sitting in a lawn chair in my yard, a ladybug landed on my hand. To my surprise, it spoke in a voice that sounded just like my Aunt Leona.  The ladybug said:
 
"Here is my advice to you on this day -
Be well rounded.  Try many experiences and always learn more each day.

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BREWED TO PERFECTION

BREWED TO PERFECTION

Bend, Oregon, with a population of over 80,000 people, offers great skiing and snowmobiling in the winter at nearby Mt. Bachelor and white water rafting, trout fishing and camping in the spring and summer.  It also has one of largest concentrations of microbreweries and craft breweries in the world, making Bend, Oregon a perfect setting for a father-and-son Spring Break vacation.
 
...and so it was.

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WATCHING DAD

WATCHING DAD

In the stillness of the night, he takes each breath slowly; deliberately.  Eyes closed, hands by his side.  The silence is only broken by the humming and hissing of the oxygen machine.  The oxygen, supplied in a clear plastic tube to his nose, enables his dreams to be more peaceful; bringing a degree of comfort and relief to a weary body now in the third week of home Hospice care.
 
For four nights and portions of the day, I have been watching Dad.  

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SUPERMAN

SUPERMAN

"There appears to be a pattern developing here."
 
"Pattern?  What pattern?"
 
"The pattern of mediocrity."
 
"So, is that bad?"
 
"Absolutely!  With as much talent as you have; your background, your high potential, this is really, really bad."
 
"You are making too much of this.  I am just tired, and I need a break."
 

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THE VALUE OF A WAVE

THE VALUE OF A WAVE

One day last month, I was doing some errands with my little girls, Lauren and Veronica.  And during our trip, we passed “Mr. Waver’s Fruit Stand.” Now, “Mr. Waver’s” was not actually the name of the fruit stand.  It’s just the name we gave it. For you see, each time a car would pass, “Mr. Waver” would raise his right hand and with an open palm facing the car, he would move his hand side to side doing his best to make eye contact with the driver.      

Well, we were approaching “Mr. Waver’s Fruit Stand” fully expecting the traditional wave.  As we drew closer, we looked, made eye contact and to our astonishment ... no wave. No wave at all.

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