Her Sides

  I smile when I listen to people talk about the good old days or a time in their life when everything was great and going precisely according to plan. You see the spark in their eyes as they retell happy tales of the great days when life was great. You watch their lips curl up in a satisfying smile as they talk about the abundance they enjoyed in either wealth, peace, power, or even human connection. You get drawn in rapt attention as their bodies get animated at the point the story gets to a crescendo as the adventure peaks. Then you watch their shoulders suddenly drop as they descend from the heights of joy when the story takes a new turn into today’s realities where things are not as great as they use to be.     When I listen to tales of the good old days, I often wonder, "what happened to you, and how did you lose it all?" Sometimes you get a glimpse of the tragedy in a moment of absolute openness when the storyteller forgets himself and sh...

My daughter absolutely loves her piggy bank. It’s a fluffy ladybug that makes a sound every time a coin is dropped in it. You should see the way her face lights up when she hears that noise; it’s a smile that says, “ Yes, it’s mine!” Most of us can relate to that early part of our lives when we had a piggy bank. It could have been a small wooden box that your father made for you, or a ceramic one your mom bought from the shop around the corner. Or maybe you were one of those ingenious kids who made theirs out of an old milk tin or small cardboard box. It really didn’t matter what it looked like; all that mattered was that you had a little treasure chest somewhere you could turn to on a rainy day if you needed some money for treats. As kids, it somehow seemed easy to put something away for a rainy day but it became more challenging as we grew into adults. With bills to pay and activities to plan for, saving for the future seems to fall right to the bottom o...