Vision jordanmarsh6, March 9, 2021April 5, 2023 We were all sitting around after dad’s funeral going through his things. There were some journals, some books, and his clothes that had gone long out of style. We shared memories about him: how he cold called mom out of the blue to ask her on a date for the first time, how he came to every dance recital and game that he could, and how he got an ungodly amount of pleasure out of doing the dishes each night. He definitely wasn’t perfect, but we loved him. We were laughing and crying and grateful for the dad and husband he was. Then we came across a little piece of woodwork he made. He had wood-burned his name into a little 4×6” plank of wood and stained it. You could even see some of the pencil marks of him trying to write out the letters. It was clearly not a work of art. The words were crooked and jagged edge, but it was legible. For how simple and insanely mediocre that little plank of wood was, we knew that that was where it had all started for dad. You see, he wrote something else next to his name on that plank of wood: Writer. His name, along with the word “Writer” next to it. He had a big dream. He wanted to share his ideas; and he knew that if he got to the end of his life without making a serious effort to write and share his ideas with the world, he’d be upset with himself. So he bought a woodburning kit and a $5 plank of wood, and literally burned his dream into pine. Then he put a tally around the side of the pine for every article he wrote. In total, there are over 500 tallies around the edge of the plank. He wrote much, much more. But that little piece of wood symbolized his effort day by day to become something he wanted for himself. He called the making of that piece of wood the initiation of his dream, and he called the tallies around the side the renewal of that dream. And it worked. He became a best-selling author and his words reached millions of people helping them become the best version of themselves. He was fascinated by habits; how bad ones are so easy to slip into and how good ones can literally propel us to the success we hope for. There’s a chance he could have never made that little piece of wood. There’s also a chance he could have made that little piece of wood with all the intentions in the world to use it, but then ultimately let it gather dust. We all go through phases sometimes. It’s interesting to think about how much differently we would view that little piece of wood if he would have forgotten about it. My dad was a good man. He loved God, he loved my mom, and he loved my siblings and I. For all the success he had as a writer, he never missed an opportunity to tell us that the greatest contribution he ever made to this world was his family. By, (hopefully) my daughter, once I’m gone. Self Improvement