My Life in Posts

I wrote My Life in Posts because I wanted my family, my children and grandchildren to know the stories behind the moments they’d seen in pictures or heard about around the dinner table. As I went back through years of Facebook and blog posts, I realized how much of the story had happened between those smiling snapshots. I wanted to write honestly about the joys, the mistakes, and the people who helped me find my footing again. What began as something to leave for my family became a book I hoped would prompt other people to tell a few stories of their own.

Revisiting my life taught me how differently a turning point can look while you’re living through it. When I was laid off in March 2020, I had spent nearly 40 years in Corporate America, and I had no idea what retirement would look like for me. Looking back, I can see how much purpose I’ve found in writing, volunteering, and helping others, even though I couldn’t have mapped any of that out on the day I lost my job. Writing the book also made me more grateful for Pam, my family, and the friends who kept showing up through all those changes.

“Rock Bottom” was the hardest chapter to write because it took me right back to the days when everything seemed to be falling apart. I knew how the story turned out by the time I sat down to write it, but I wanted to remember what it felt like when I had no idea how things would turn out. It was hard to look honestly at the choices I’d made and the pain I felt, especially knowing that people I love would read those pages. I kept the chapter because leaving it out would have made it harder to understand what it took for me to rebuild my life.

I hope readers recognize how much of a life is made up of ordinary moments they might have forgotten. A conversation with a friend, a day at the lake, or a decision that felt small at the time can take on a different meaning years later. I also hope someone going through a hard stretch sees that there’s room in their story for love, laughter, and another beginning. And if reading my book makes someone sit down with a grandchild and say, “Have I ever told you about the time…?” that would mean a lot to me.

I looked for posts that still meant something to me years after I’d written them. Sometimes a photo or a few lines brought back a whole day, but the post itself only told a small part of the story. I wanted readers to know what had led up to that moment, what I was feeling, and why it mattered to me later. That meant making room for stories I hadn’t shared publicly, including some I could only make sense of with a little distance.

I’d read “The Devil’s Throat” because it captures both the sheer joy of that dive and how quickly it turned into one of the scariest moments of my life. I was taking in the beauty of the reef and the thrill of swimming through those narrow passages when I realized I was out of air. What I’d most want to share with a book club is what went through my mind and how I reacted when I honestly thought I was going to die. I think the suspense would draw people in, and afterward I’d love to hear how others remember moments when something they loved doing suddenly asked more of them than they expected.

My faith gave me a way to sit with questions I couldn’t answer at the time. As an engineer, I spent much of my career looking for causes and solutions, and I still have that instinct when something goes wrong in my own life. Writing the book gave me time to reflect on where I’d found hope, where I’d needed help, and how often that help came through other people. It also made me grateful to God for the people who stayed close and for the purpose I’ve found in serving others.

What I remember most about proposing to Pam on the Golden Gate Bridge is how sure I felt that I wanted to spend the rest of my life with her. The bridge made for a memorable setting, but in my mind the moment always comes back to the two of us and what I was asking her. Writing “A Bridge to Forever” let me slow down and spend a little more time in a moment that went by awfully fast. Years later, I’m as grateful for the ordinary days Pam and I share as I am for that unforgettable one.

I’d tell him to spend a little less time trying to figure out how his whole life is supposed to go. Work hard, but make time for the people you love while you have them, and ask for help when you need it. Some of the days you’d least want to live through will teach you things you’ll be grateful to know later. And write a few things down along the way, because one day your grandchildren may want to know who you were before they knew you as Grandpa.