For My Dad - He Told Me...

Thank you for helping celebrate dad. He wanted especially to ensure everyone knew how well mom (his wife of 57 years) always cared for and loved him… and how much he loved the care he received and the people he met from Heartland Hospice. Thank you for loving my dad. 

I wouldn’t be half the man I am today if not for the beautiful example both of my parents set throughout my life. And for what I put them through in my early years, Dad earned every bit of every reward he’ll be getting. He left an indelible legacy behind, and there are so many moments I’ll never forget from my time with him. One occasion in particular (my High School graduation) left its mark, and I want to share his words with you all as we celebrate his life today. 

 He told me, 

 “Because you are my son and I love you, I offer the following. You are both gifted and accomplished, and of that I am proud. Be a good steward of the gifts, or the accomplishments mean nothing.” 

 I admired my dad’s faith. He was never in your face about it, but he always led with his witness. Faith drove many decisions he made throughout his life for his family, and these lyrics we’ll hear at his funeral mass speak to that faith: 

“I, who made the stars of night 

I will make their darkness bright 

Who will bear My light to them? 

Whom shall I send? 

Here I am, Lord. 

Is it I, Lord? 

I have heard You calling in the night 

I will go, Lord, if You lead me 

I will hold Your people in my heart”

His selfless work with Mother Teresa’s Missionaries of Charity - the holidays and countless summers throughout my childhood he spent furthering their mission to serve the poorest of the poor at their house in Charlotte, NC were testaments to that witness. He taught me valuable lessons on service and charity… and gave me perspective. 

He told me, 

 “Humility isn’t thinking less of yourself, it’s thinking of yourself less. Be Humble.” 

This would prove to be a challenge for my siblings and me. But I loved knowing how proud my dad was of each one of us, and he never missed an opportunity to showcase you on his social media or in conversations with friends. He simply never bragged on himself, oftentimes meeting you with his own brand of self-depricating humor he was known for. I am extraordinarily proud of my dad and the life he lived, and I was immensely proud to introduce “Dampa” to my own son Rory. 

He told me, 

 “Dignity is the capacity to hold back on the tongue what should have never been on the mind in the first place. Be Dignified.” 

I think about this often when I want to talk trash to rival sports fans (sometimes even with my own family). But with the exception of the locker room at halftime of a basketball game Dad was coaching, he was slow to outwardly criticize, and he was fast to love. In his final months, he didn’t ask for your prayers. That wasn’t his focus. He wouldn’t let you leave the room or the house without letting him pray for you, though. 

He told me, 

 “If you are a person of few words, you won’t have as many to take back. Be Quiet.” 

I can feel him reiterating that to us doing our best to honor him right now, as brevity is certainly not a strong suit in our family. But when you live a life as full as my dad’s, his kids are allowed to make an exception to honor him. Where he was few on words, he was big on action. I’ll never forget him jumping in his truck armed with a 1 iron golf club to go chase down 12 gang members who attacked my brothers in our driveway… or the time at Fleming Heights Apartments when armed robbers had him at gunpoint, and they soon fled with gun in hand as my dad chased them out with a pair of scissors from his desk. Dad was tough. 

He told me, 

 “Most of us will never do great things, but we can do small things in a great way. Don’t forget the small stuff.” 

Even though he was inducted into the University of Alabama Huntsville’s Hall of Honor, nobody clipped a better coupon. Nobody planned a better European pilgrimage off earnings from eBay. And if you were between the ages of 1 and 10, he was the best high fiver you’ve ever seen. My siblings knew him as “The Bread Angel” from his anonymous late-night grocery deliveries to families in need. And I saw him fix emergencies what felt like hundreds of times for his tenants at Fleming, never showing up empty handed… bringing both the necessary fixes and bags of candy to the families and their kids. Whether it was being a reader at mass, coaching his granddaughter’s JV girls basketball team, working with the Sojourners, rolling linoleum flooring in apartments, or helping clear thousands of roaches from the homes of mom’s hospice patients… Dad flourished in the “small stuff.” 

He told me, 

 “I before ‘e,’ but not before ‘we.’”

Nothing my dad did for the people he loved was convenient for him. It was late nights, tough conversations, and wisdom freely given. Dad always showed up for you. Without fail. If he couldn’t make it to you, he and my mom opened their house instead; to stay for a few minutes to rent free movies from his endless collection of VHS tapes (with an elaborate check-in check-out process to keep track, he really rivaled Blockbuster for a time... and he somehow survived the evolution from VHS to DVD), to stay for a few days if you were a seminarian for the diocese or a visiting priest, to stay for a few months if you were a family moving to Augusta and your house wasn’t ready yet, and to stay for a few years at God’s calling when he was asked to take guardianship of someone needing a parental figure. 

He finally told me, 

 “Remember that Killips isn’t just a name, it’s a family.” 

He was the absolute best role model and father God could have blessed me with. He was my hero, and I loved him immensely. I pray my kids look up to me and the example I’ll set half as much as I always looked up to my dad. 

There were two occasions my dad honored me with a “Go Dawgs, Sic ‘Em!” - my high school graduation and the rehearsal dinner before my wedding day. So on this occasion where we celebrate your amazing life, Dad… Roll Tide Roll.

Just as needed now as it was then

In speaking with a few close friends about faith related topics in the past few weeks, it became known the same challenges I went through years ago will continue to be apparent in the years ahead as I attempt to grow in faith. The following is a journal entry of mine I wrote during my sophomore year in college. I've shared it with several people in the years since, and I'm discovering it's even more applicable for me now than it was then... a sobering reminder that without fighting, there is no victory.

So I was thinking about a few things today. It has truly been one heck of a year so far. And despite all the trials, all the tribulation, all the frustration, all the regrets - God has continued to bless me with innumerable gifts. It becomes so easy to thank God when life is good; times when every piece of the puzzle fits so neatly together. As we all know, however, He never lets us off quite that easy. Perspective. Perspective is what I continue to gain in my day-to-day life. When it rains, it often pours. And suddenly - without warning - those pieces refuse to fit together. Situations go awry, people get sick, and we fall into making bad decisions. Struggle. Struggle is what I continue to do in many aspects of my life. In overcoming, it takes work, it takes faith, and it takes constant prayer. I can recall being nine years old. Most everything makes sense when you're nine, yet nothing really does at all. Kneeling in adoration of the Blessed Sacrament in a small chapel in North Carolina, my focus was drawn to two words written by the Missionaries of Charity off to the side of the Crucifix - "I thirst." Jesus Christ, in all His abundant glory, thirsts. Desire. Desire is what I found in my heart that day... a desire to lay "it" all down for Him.

For what, or whom, does Christ thirst? The answer of course is me. He wants me, and He wants all of me - each and every moment of every single day. How can I begin to give myself to God when pain, frustration, and fear succumb my senses? It takes work, it takes faith, it takes prayer, and most importantly it takes a choice. God, in all His infinite wisdom, gave me free will - free will to choose Him above all things... when I struggle, when I have nobody to turn to, and when I need Him most of all. With a choice comes a sacrifice, and it's one I hardly find myself desiring to make. It's so easy to talk about making the right decision, but when it comes down to it am I willing to lay it all down? Tomorrow, God. It's always tomorrow, never realizing it's here today. Courage. God grant me courage - courage to be His instrument, to witness to those I surround myself with on a daily basis. Am I doing all I can? Does arrogance continue to plague my heart? Am I willing to let it separate me from my friends? My family? My relationship with my God? And what's it worth? Can anything compare to the joy and solace one finds in simple humility? I must continue to find the value in adversity. Mistakes are made, and I make them every day. God does not desire for me to dwell on them. I refuse to let regret hinder my actions any longer. Forgiveness. I ask for a sincere forgiveness, and I move on - continuing to acquire peace and zeal for unbridled perfection. Faith. God grant me the faith of a mustard seed... to become the man I'm capable of being... one with whom He can respond, "Well done, My good and faithful servant."

For You, Mason

I was born a few short months after my family moved to Augusta, Georgia where I spent the first eighteen years of my life.  In fact, until I moved away, I never spent more than four consecutive weeks away from my home state.  And throughout those eighteen years, starting at a very young age as my close friends and family will attest, I had a dream… an unquenchable desire to attend the absolute BEST college in the land.  My dream - and my folks will love this - was to grow up and attend the University... of Alabama.  But as I am sure you will agree… and as is true with most of our life journeys from a very young age until the time arrived for us to choose a college… I started to learn to make informed, smart decisions.  I became more intelligent… MUCH more intelligent, I became more mature… I BECAME a Georgia Bulldog. 

If choosing to attend the University of Georgia was an unpopular decision, choosing to join a fraternity was even more so. I don’t think I can recall one single person close to me at the time who approved of or supported that decision. I have absolutely zero regrets. Through my involvement, I had the unique opportunity to experience triumphs and failures I may have never had otherwise with dear friends I may have never met.. I claimed you as my little brother the first day you set foot in the house as a pledge, having no clue the challenges you endured or the type of man you’d become. To this day, I still don’t know if you were just using me for my status as an Arch Society member, though! We both pledged when we were sophomores... we both came in with a track record of action... and we both came in with a hunger to leave legacies. I wish I could sit here and claim you as my legacy at UGA, but that would greatly discredit all of your amazing accomplishments. Most students would kill to have the near impossible task of cutting three pages worth of amazing activities to just one on a resume. How many times did I try using my best sales skills trying to convince you to focus on less during your senior year? Did you listen?... eh, sometimes. Look where it all landed you - scoring a position in your dream company. Do you think your affinity for bow ties is a coincidence? Not anymore!

I still wish you’d stop for a minute to finally take stock of everything you did during your four years in Athens. Many of these successes we shared together... you just happened to do some of them better. I was inducted as an Arch Society member as a rising senior... you were selected as a rising junior. Arch Society Tom Cochran Service Award?... you claimed it exactly one year after I did. Academic Certificate in Personal and Organizational Leadership? Yup, we did that too. Same goes for representing UGA at the National Collegiate Sales Competition. I could go on about your other feats, but I won’t for fear of them making me feel like a chump. Yes, we shared in each other's successes. Perhaps more importantly, we were there to share in each other's failures as well. We had the amazing opportunity to spend time at one of the top institutions in the country, both of us without having to pay for tuition thanks to the HOPE Scholarship.  Our Alma Mater made a deep and sincere investment into both of us. Beyond that, you endured trials I will never understand, and you learned to lean on others for support... you also learned to stand for yourself.   The results of that investment were made evident the minute you were accepted to UGA... and the moment you turned your tassel this weekend and walked through the Arch for the first time.  I think we were both robbed when we were not chosen to be the student commencement speaker. So, I’m including a little of what would have been yours below, because your life is an amazing story of accomplishment and overcoming what you point to below as very long odds.

“Since our University’s charter was signed 225 years ago making us the first state chartered university in the United States, the Bulldog Nation continues to pay it forward.
I also have a secret to share with you. I’m a living example of what happens when you pay it forward. You see, I grew up in the foster care system starting at the age of 7. I moved to more than 10 different homes throughout the State of Georgia. Statistics show that only 6% of foster children who graduate high school will actually go to college… less than 1% who go will ever graduate. Fellow graduates and guests, I’m forever in debt to you. Without the humble service from people just like you, I wouldn’t be speaking before you today, nor would I have had the unique opportunity to experience triumphs and failures I may have never had otherwise with dear friends I may have never met. I’m here because one person stood up for me when I couldn’t stand.
Without your constant love and support, many of us may not be present here today. We have seen how just one person’s generosity can forever alter the life of another. I challenge each of us to never lose that drive to stand for those in need.
As we leave the stadium today to go and author the story of our generation… I encourage each of you to remember just one thing about the Bulldog Nation:
It’s our memories that set us a part, but it’s our service that holds up together… Never underestimate the power that your service can have on someone else’s life.”

Continue making the absolute best of it, Mason.  As Doc Childre once wrote, "It is no longer enough to be smart – all the technological tools in the world add meaning and value only if they enhance our core values, the deepest part of our heart.  Acquiring knowledge is no guarantee of practical, useful application.  Wisdom implies a mature integration of appropriate knowledge, a seasoned ability to filter the inessential from the essential."  Be wise. What in your time here have you found to be essential?  What develops your core values?  Cling to them. John Paul II also stated, "Freedom consists not in doing what we want, but in having the right to do what we ought."  What I have found to be essential is the need to positively influence this world I live in according to the gifts I have been given. It is clear you will do the same. Ambitious, driven, undaunted, caring. You encompass them all, bud. I am excited for you and for the world you now enter. I pray you hang on to your zeal and enthusiasm. I know that if you do, you might actually be able to make some changes. You were already chosen as one of a very select few foster youth in the entire country to help draft legislation in Washington. How amazing is that? Be proud. As my dad told me, humility is not thinking less of yourself.. it’s thinking of yourself less. Be humble as well. Lead in the same way you wore the Black Blazer - with pride and humility.

Mason, you amaze me and everyone you surround yourself with. Thank you for letting me support you and always being there to support me. Thank you for allowing us to view the world through your lenses.  These little acts of love represent just a few of the things you accomplished as a UGA student.  Know they have influenced me in a BIG way.  Today I applaud you for never being afraid – never being satisfied with mediocrity.  You continuously represented our university well, your inspiration is contagious, and I hope your efforts continue long after you leave. 


I’ll leave you with two quotes to always bear in mind as you move to this next step in your life. Our paths crossed three years ago. Three years later... you’re my brother and my best friend. To you...  Thank you so much.  I wish you the best of luck in all your future endeavors.  Let's do BIG things, because admittedly... we are kind of a big deal.


“From your very beginnings, even before He formed you in the womb, God has taken a great interest in you. He has been gracing your heart, your soul, and your whole self.”

"People are often unreasonable, illogical, and self-centered. Forgive them anyway. If you are kind, people may accuse you of selfish, ulterior motives. Be kind anyway. If you are successful, you will win some false friends and some true enemies. Succeed anyway. If you are honest and frank, people may cheat you. Be honest and frank anyway. What you spend years building, someone could destroy overnight. Build anyway. If you find serenity and happiness, they may be jealous. Be happy anyway. The good you do today, people will often forget tomorrow. Do good anyway. Give the world the best you have and it may just never be enough. Give the world the best you have anyway. You see, in the final analysis, it's all between you and God. It was never between you and them anyway."

74 - Part 1

"I'd rip the mike out of Bob Costas' hands and say into the camera, very sincerely, 'I'd just very much like to thank (pause) my sweet butt for being so good! Nobody's hittin' these shots but me, you fools! You see anybody blockin' for me? Catching balls at the wall? Throwin' me a pass? It's just me out here, by myself, home slice, and I am flat-out a witch with these here Pings. I can do stuff with these things that would've gotten me buried up to my eyes in the desert during the Middle Ages!' "


I have a few favorite numbers – each of them corresponding to something worth remembering in my life. Why else have a favorite number, right? Pick a number 1 through 10? I will always choose the number 2. This was the number I wore during my senior year soccer season which culminated in my fourth state championship in a row. Pick a number 1 through 50? I will always choose 25, as it was the number I wore during my senior basketball season. 1 through 100? Chances are that from here on out I will tell you 74… a recent change from 79. The entry below aside, you should be well aware of how much I enjoy playing golf. And as I mentioned last time, I went out with plenty of things on my mind and subsequently shot the best round of my entire life – a 74.


When the time came to play my first round of the year, I was pretty pumped. Check that – I was UBER pumped. It’s the little things in life, right? I booked the tee time the afternoon before, got a great deal, and left work in the best mood I had been in for weeks. After waking up the morning of, I cleared my bag of last year’s scorecards and put it in my car. No worries… I left in plenty of time to drive north of town to the course which is ranked #2 among public courses in Missouri, wanting to have an opportunity to hit a bucket of balls. This was my first tee time since my golf vacation to Hilton Head right before I moved out of Georgia after all. Well, that didn’t happen. While checking in, they told me there was an open spot in the twosome about to tee off. Decision time. Have enough time to practice so I wouldn’t embarrass myself after a four month absence?... or take the opportunity to tee off earlier – ensuring I would get my full round in before the sun set. I chose the latter…thus beginning the best afternoon I’ve had since moving.


I’ve been playing most of my rounds over the past year while attempting to not take any mulligans. The three of us in my group agreed we would probably need two balls off of the first tee, though. The two guys in my group did just that. I had my second ball in my pocket and ready to go when I teed up the first. Driver in hand, I took an easy swing that sent the ball several hundred yards… not in the creek to the right… or the woods to the left… it landed and rolled several more yards down the left side of the fairway. Off we went. That second ball? I never took it out of my pocket. Now, I started out last year wanting to break 100 every time we went out. It got to the point that I was breaking 90 every round out, regardless of the course we played. However, it didn’t matter what kind of day I was having… my score almost always ended up between 84 and 89. On one most glorious day out with a client in Atlanta, I shot the first sub 80 round of my life – a 79. I mention this to make sure you know how much of a minor.. eh… major miracle it is to shoot the score I did with the skill level (sometimes lack of) I have. Did I mention this was my first round in over four months? I duffed my second shot, leaving me a lob wedge to the green. Wedge in hand, I put that bad boy about ten feet from the pin. I was pretty pleased with the shot, buuuuut I subsequently left my par putt short (you have to hit it, Alice). Bogey. I also bogeyed the second hole. I got settled in, and then I started swinging those bad boys like it was my job.

Golf

If there’s one thing you need to know about me, it’s that I keep a camera in my golf bag at all times for the day I hit my first hole-in-one. I love to golf. I love everything about it… waking up early for a tee time before the greens are cut and dry… rushing home from work (sticks and shoes in the trunk), because you know you’ll get at least 15 holes in before you can’t see the ball anymore… owning a bag that has an insulated pocket for beers… speculating with your best friends as to whether or not the cart girl will give you her number… learning much about the game from my uncle... and having the opportunity to share my passion years later with my nephews. Most of all, I love to get out there on the course and just compete – with you, with the strangers I’ve been paired with, and with myself.

Growing up in Augusta, Georgia, it was only natural to enjoy being around the game. My house was just a few miles south of the most beautiful piece of land I’ve ever seen – the Augusta National… home of The Masters. The first big road I learned to drive on is even called Bobby Jones Expressway. Playing was always a pretty rare treat, though, as golf is a pretty expensive sport to enjoy. I pieced my first “set” of clubs together by paying for them $5 at a time from flea markets my dad would drive me to. My friends gave me hell, because my first three wood was made of… well, wood (and I’m proud to say I carry that club in my bag to this day). I purchased my first driver from a local driving range. My friends and brothers also gave me hell about this. Ahhhh, the Nitro Whacka Whacka. Yes, indeed. Well, they gave me hell up until the point they begged to take a few swings with that bad boy. I stole my first putter out of my brother’s bag, and I’m pretty sure I just never gave it back (sorry, Brian). Returning the favor, my brother now plays with my first “real” set of irons, a set I played with until my uncle, Dick, generously gave me his set of Pings. And I am becoming an absolute witch with these here Pings.




Early this past summer… finally with some spare change in my pocket and a severe hip flexor injury sidelining me from my running addiction… my roommate and I decided to play 18. I enjoyed it so much I went and played the next day. Soon thereafter, I was out on the golf course three to four times per week. I ended up coming to the earth shattering conclusion that I enjoy playing even more when my game improves – imagine that. I purchased and began using a driver for the first time in six years, and I stopped using mulligans in order to calculate my handicap index. It got to the point that when trying to decide whether to move to Tampa, Florida or Kansas City, Missouri, my dad actually threw in the fact that my golfing season would be much shorter in Missouri as part of my decision criteria. I laughed it off, but I would soon realize how much it really did matter to me once I moved.

Part of the reason I enjoy walking up to the first tee box so much is due to the fact I can find a round to be beneficial to my day regardless of the type of day, week, month, or year I’m having. I love to golf when I’m happy, I love to golf when I feel frustrated, and I love to golf when something is weighing on my heart. As I mentioned, the set of irons I use to this day are the Ping Zings my uncle gave me after a great round together near Lake Martin in Alabama. Uncle Dick comes to visit every year he can, provided his visit coincides with Masters week and the chance to attend a practice round or tournament day. Although, he did attend my graduation as well! Every once in a while, including this past year, we have the opportunity to make it out there together. He has a sense of awe for the game and its legends. The Golden Bear, Arnie’s umbrella and his army… I associate most of them with him. He’s a true Southern gentleman, and this is a gentleman’s game. Watching the subtle joy on his face when Jack, Arnie, and Gary Player walked down the fairway toward the green where we were stationed last year was an awesome experience. I’m convinced that when God calls Uncle Dick home, he’ll be doing nothing more than teeing off at the best links Heaven has to offer – probably Augusta, National.




February was a tough month this year… again. Ridiculous and frustrating events in Kansas City had me down already when I received a phone call from my mom in the middle of the month. My uncle has been diagnosed with esophageal cancer that was already tearing down most of his other vital organs. His prognosis is understandably frightening, and the whole situation became a focal point in my prayer life. I really wish God would choose more subtle ways of putting personal, trivial issues in perspective. Following the next few weeks, though, it became time to choose joy. And when the snow in KC finally melted away just enough to clear the greens and fairways, I set out to enjoy one of my absolute favorite activities. Golf, a simple thing in life, is a game I enjoy so much partly due to the influence my uncle has had on my life. I figured it would be an activity to help derail my mind from the negative and focus on the joy. Let me tell you something. With a heart focused on him, it became the best round of my entire life…

The Little Things

Do you aspire to great things? Start with the little ones. Focus on the little ones. For those who have known me for some time, you probably realize I’m very much “it’s the simple kind of things” guy. In fact, if you have not given me a hard time for being overly giddy or excited over seemingly frivolous actions, words, or experiences, you probably do not know me well enough. I want to laugh. I want rid my day to day life of unnecessary and self-created stress and drama. I refuse to let unfortunate circumstances keep me down for long (most of the time). As Emily would put it, I want to choose joy. I want you to choose joy as well. I want you to have THE best day EVER. Now, this is not to say there are not plenty of occasions that drag me down, disappoint me, or cause a certain degree of pain. There’s always a song, conversation with a friend, dog, mile long running route, golf course, beer, cookout, or piano to help deal with stress, though. Those times I do find myself upset or frustrated? You better believe I have an impeccable ability to turn it into motivation… to focus…to drive… to run an angry mile… to take it hard to the rim… to shoot a 74. By the grace of God, I am very resilient. I could not be more thankful that the seemingly little things in life cause this resiliency.

During my junior year at UGA, I was taking the first series of classes in the Institute for Leadership Advancement’s LEAD program, when Dr. Clawson gave us the semester’s task of putting together our Personal Development & Leadership Plan (PDLP for short). For the 60 of us in the program, this document was a source of many long nights and countless hours spent compiling 32 pages worth of reflection and information on… well, us. Each of us took time to interview four individuals who knew our strengths and our weaknesses well, and we asked them to share a few of these… finally asking them the simple question, “Why should anyone be led by me?” Sometimes, in order to best see yourself, you must look to others who know you well. I chose my friend and roommate (LJ), my first friend at UGA (Sara), my ex girlfriend (twice over)…, and my father. My dad attributed one of my weaknesses to being too task oriented and failing to see the big picture at times. It’s safe to say I took those words to heart. It’s safe to say I still do. I point to that conversation when looking for reasons to explain a child-like (or maybe just childish to some) love for the little things… the simple things… the important things.

Honestly, I have no idea how others make it through the day – much less the week – without a true appreciation for the little things. Tough day at work? Turn on a hot jam during the ride home. Most of the time, it really is that simple for me. When I graduated from UGA, my sister warned me about tough days… “I am just a little sad that you now have to leave all that behind and begin your life in the real world. You'll find that people out here are not as quick to pat you on the back for a job well done, nor are they as optimistic about the world as you are. Out here you will certainly face more temptations than the worst night in the frat house.” Absolutely. Just choose joy instead. Great day at work? Buy your favorite beer, pour it into your favorite glass, and send your brother a message… laughing about how great you have it. Yes, it’s tough out here at times. I’m just glad I have a family, friends, and my faith to help me realize there are much more important things to focus on – the little things.

There are so many people who made and continue to make a deep and sincere investment in my life. Whether it was a friend, a mentor, a professor, or a parent constantly calling from home… I have no doubt each and every one of us can point to an occasion when someone enhanced our development and prepared us for the road ahead. And the results of that investment are made evident every morning I climb out of bed. Today, I choose to continue making the absolute best of it.

Four Months In

More than four months in – wow. Is it really so difficult for me to believe I have been living out here for more than three months now? Nah. To tell you the truth, though, Kansas City has not always felt like home yet. Well, kind of. But in the short amount of time I’ve been out of the South, several amazing things occurred. I Rick Rolled Kansas City on Halloween (even if nobody here has ever heard of Rick Astley… Sad, I know), survived my first major holiday without any family members (rocked out grilling scallops wrapped in prosciutto skewered with rosemary sprigs at the Pauley’s, though), wrote my first crop of monster cases at work (after the frustrating yet laughable events of a little more than a year ago, I continue to serve notice that I have gumption), attended my first few big events in the area (saw Wicked during its run downtown.. sat next to a grandma and a mom with her high school daughter.. yeah, about that… also experienced my first Kansas home basketball game), and I hosted my first visitor to KC (in winter, no less). I found a new running route to enjoy (even if Cam’s dog, Maggie, is not here to trot alongside of me) and a new brewery to love. I’ve even made it through all of the winter months without ever turning the heat on in my apartment, resulting in power bills costing less than $30. Perhaps the most exciting thing that happened, though, came on an early morning drive down to Rolla, Missouri. Be honest, how many people would kill for the chance to hear Lil’ Troy’s, “Wanna be a Baller,” play on the radio while driving in your own Chevy Impala?? Well, the recipient of “The Hartford’s Secret Gangsta” office award was pretty pumped. I did take a three week hiatus from KC over the Christmas holiday (more on that vacation later), but I’ve had good experience overall so far.

Being away from family for extended periods of time is never ideal for either party involved. I’m not sure if my mom realizes I have no immediate plans to return to Georgia at any time in the near future. I do expect the Masters and Easter to be an annual excuse to get back to the South, but I will be joining my dad and two brothers in Indianapolis for the Final Four this year instead. Yes, I am extremely excited about this trip, as the Final Four is an event high on my sports bucket list… a list I did not expect to fall as quickly as it has been this year. Lucking my way into tickets for the BCS Championship, Final Four, and College World Series this year will help take big chunks off of that list, though. I’ll be away from friends and the other members of my family for a while. But, as Gchat, cell phones, and facebook constantly remind me, they are all much closer than the actual distance would have me believe. My folks demand constant updates on life and the huge business opportunities I’m pursuing. My sister gives me updates on her return to teaching and how my niece and nephews are doing (she also has a blog at www.raisingangels.blogspot.com). Aaron texts about Alabama football, and Brian BBMs me about Bama and Georgia sports with up to the minute opinions of beer and rock concerts as well (our last conversation went something like this… B, “Day of Rock Show > Morning after Rock Show”). I’m thankful for how well they keep me grounded. I’m thankful that they’re still there to celebrate my successes and let me share in theirs. I’m thankful, because I don’t like thinking about the man I would or wouldn’t be without their influence in my life. I have zero regrets about embarking on this new adventure in my life, but it’s not so wrong to miss the people who helped in your formation. As I continue to move through Lent, there’s one thing a pair of brothers helps remind me of. Always remember, there is nothing worth sharing… like the love that let us share our name.