I visited by parents recently and they showed me a photobook I had put together for them five years ago. It documented the year in photos, largely those of my son Bryson. This was my intro I wrote, more like a letter to my parents. I am sharing it because I think its sentiments are shared by all parents --


It was the best of times, it was the worst of times ... wait, aside for those moments necessitating various punishments -- most of them involving time spent alone silently contemplating why dad was being so mean -- the past year really was the best of times. It was the best Christmas ever, the best Easter ever, the best summer vacation ever, the best ... well, you certainly get the idea. And next year it will be the best of tmes, too, because somehow, my son finds new ways to enrich my life. There are days I wish there was a big red button on the wall labeled "Replay," and with one press I would be waking up that same morning, having no idea what was ahead. and enjoying anew a day so rich that I was compelled to live it again (and I know you two probably had thousands of days like that as Gary and I grew up). Within these 30-odd pages you will find just a fraction of the moments that made this year so special. From Christmas to Easter-egg hunts to wondrous vacations, this book cannot hope to capture the magic. But it does manage a pretty good reflection, one that will no doubt remind you of the joys of parenthood. And as you page through, remember yourselves as the young energetic parents of my childhood, the mom and dad that still fill my memories of the best Christmases ever, the best Easter mornings ever, the best summer vacations ever. Those days are as alive as ever, made even more vibrant by a 9-year-old boy who continues to be the best thing that happened to me. Enjoy, and thank you for being the best parents ever.

Did you see that study that found if you consume two drinks a day, it lowers your risk for dementia? I used to think that when I forgot things, it was the onset of dementia. Now I know I'm just drunk.

There comes that point in every teen's life when he realizes the world does not revolve around him. And that realization typically is delivered by a frustrated parent.

My moment occurred when I was 13, seconds after I said, “Like, right now?” when my dad asked offered to drive me to the store to buy a Mother's Day. It was an epic lecture, beginning with 14 hours of labor and ending with that day's mom-made breakfast of toaster waffles (his tone of voice made up for dwindling impact).

Recently, however, I was on the delivery end, completing the circle of life.

Seconds after my 14-year-old son and I disembarked the Durango-Silverton (Colo.) train after a three-hour ride through rocky canyons and along narrow ledges, he said, “OK, I have to say that was the most boring thing we've done on this trip, seriously. Really, dad, I am so happy to be off that thing.”

After a silent drive back to the vacation rental house, followed by a cooling-off period lest temper interfere with the message, my son and I had a talk. Perhaps it was more a lecture than anything else.

I mentioned all the things we had done based on his wishes — rafting, mountain biking, a jeep tour, etc. And it was all very enjoyable.

“I knew the train wouldn’t be your thing, but I was hoping two things,” I said. “First, that you would open yourself up enough to appreciate the amazing things we would see. And two, that even though this trip wasn’t for you, you’d see how much it meant to me, and gain some sort of respect for the way others feel.

“But the second you turned on your iPod and shoved in those earbuds, what, 10 minutes into the trip, I knew I’d lost you.”

Funny thing happened then. He apologized and in a soft, contrite voice told me the things he appreciated about the trip. As we talked, the mood warmed.

Of course more rough spots are ahead. But in helping my son become a caring, well-rounded individual, this was a nice start.