When I was just six months old, my parents, who work for the State Department, moved to Washington DC to do their periodic check-in with Big Brother. They lived in a town called Reston, Virginia, which had plenty of swimming pools, one within walking distance of our house.
My brother, Steve, was about five years old at the time, and loved the water. So, it happened, did our neighbor's son, Mac. Mac was about a year older than Steve, and the two took to each other immediately. Steve even joined the swim team with Mac, and was over at his house often.
I wrote this a while ago, and since it seems to be nothing but a series of advice, I figured... what the hell? I think I was listening to LeAnne Womack's "I Hope You Dance" at the time because that's what it sounds like.
When you look up at the sky, don't do it just to see if it's raining When you find it is raining, don't run indoors and hide When you get your hopes too high, don't say you're overrated When you walk down by a river, don't be afraid to get your feet wet When your fire goes out, don't blame it on the wind When you watch the sunset, don't think the day is over When you reach out to...