Category Archives: Family

May 30, 2026 · 6:44 pm

Good Fences and Good Neighbors

I would grab a cup of coffee or tea, this blog post is going to take a little time and try to connect some interesting dots… no, go ahead, I’ll wait…

OK, so the dots I am going to connect range from poetry, real life fact, and AI / technology.

First, Robert Frost’s poem “Mending Wall”. This is one of his most ironic poems. The depth of what is written and what is meant, or at least what a reader might even believe, is extraordinary. And that ambiguity hits the reader in classic Frost style with the ending.

If you’ve never read the poem, follow the link before reading further… really, I’ll wait.

I could (and maybe I should) write an analysis post about this poem, but I want to get to the heart of this dot I want to connect to other moments and the theme of this post. The plot of the poem is simple: Robert Frost and his neighbor meet to repair the stone fence that separates their land. This is a yearly event. One of the major themes is emphasized at the end of the poem, “He says again, ‘Good fences make good neighbors.’”

Dot two: My neighbor is building a fence.

Back to the poem and what the line “Good fences make good neighbors” might mean. The word choice is important, ‘Good fences’ and ‘good neighbors’. An important point to remember is that they are working together to mend the stone fence (also described as a wall in the poem). It is important because it highlights the balance of them living their separate lives, yet maintaining a neighborly relationship. In fact in the poem it states that Robert Frost contacts his neighbor about the day to repair the wall. 

It is clear from reading the poem that they are not friends, but they are respectful, even if Robert Frost fails at getting to a deeper conversation with his neighbor. (I understand that, “Let’s Not Talk about the Weather.”) They are at least ‘good neighbors’.

Back to dot two. Our neighbors have been in the house less than a year. Most of our backyards meet. The fence will separate their yard from ours. I have never spoken to them. We have acknowledged each other while mowing or out gardening with a smile or a head nod. I do not know why they are building the fence. 

Is it a good fence? Not sure.

I do recognize that I am not a good neighbor in the classical sense.

Which brings us to dot three.

Technology / AI and its effect on the idea of a good neighbor.

Part of the draw of technology, of social media, of even AI, is that it was supposed to break down the physical and personal walls of our lives. We could find community anywhere in the world. We could share ideas, our art, our hobbies, share ourselves to the world. And it can do that. I have people on X (the app formally known as Twitter) that would be good friends in real life. But I’ve never met them in person.

The ironic aspect is that the idea was no barriers, no walls, no fences… but that is not how the internet works. We have different fences, and I’m not sure they are ‘good’. We can live behind fictional handles / accounts. Now with AI, we can automate our very existence. Let it write or respond to email, let AI post on Instagram as us, or to a fictional account we create.

Sadly we are fencing ourselves in by not being ourselves, by letting ChatGPT think for us, by removing any of the work it takes to discover our talents. Even what we are not good at is an important step in becoming who we are. Technology is not a good fence. Being a good neighbor is about understanding who we are through our successes and struggles. Learning what is valuable to our souls. To understand that our neighbors are people who are trying their best to live their lives.

I do wonder why my neighbor is building a fence. Robert Frost’s poem delves into deeper themes (that I might just write more about) of this life. And I am using technology now with this blog post, but my goal is be a good neighbor for you reader, as you work on living on your side of this fence.

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March 30, 2026 · 2:50 pm

Walk in My Shoes

On Aug 17, 2025, I got a new pair of shoes for walking.

I had an idea to wear them only for walking and to record my steps after each walk. I was going to try to make it a year, but due to different circumstances, I made it to the end of this month, 8 months total. 

I walked a total of 549051 steps… 245 miles.

We all know the idiom, “Walk a mile in their / my shoes” as a reference to understanding someone. I took notes sometimes after a walk. During these last 8 months, I had a colleague lose two of their grandchildren in a car accident. My oldest son got married. I walked on Halloween but didn’t get to walk with my youngest daughter on her last trick-or-treat trip, she was at a friend’s house. 

I walked through hundreds of grasshoppers in August. I walked in the school on nights when my daughter had musical practice. I walked on a 65 degree day in February. I took notes for poems, some that are still notes. I walked on Christmas day, reflecting on family and how time was moving so fast.

The miles simply represent my life, as they would for you.

As I totaled the steps, I noticed something interesting. No matter what the day, or the route I took (I have a couple of routes I walk in the neighborhood), no day ever had the same number of steps. Ever.

So no matter how many times I took my ‘medium route’ in the neighborhood, the step count was different.

I understand there are a number of reasons for the differences, but that proves the point that even in the routine of our life, each day is different. Has a different step count because of the smallest changes to how we walked through the day. How we lived that day.

Maybe to understand ourselves better we should pay attention to how we walk in our own shoes.

And so my idea for this blog post comes to an end as I transfer the shoes to work shoes.

But, I did get a new pair of walking shoes… 

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February 22, 2026 · 4:56 pm

Blueberry Muffins and Nothing to Do

At the moment my daughters are performing karaoke with a friend. My wife is listening to a podcast and I am writing this blog post (I did just spend 30 minutes reading a book). For the first time in a long time we have nothing to do.

This morning we had blueberry muffins. We attended church. Ran to get my wife her coffee drink (if you know, you know). Bought some yarn for my youngest daughter who has fallen in love with crocheting. For Christmas we got her a Wooble. She has completed at least 7 of those sets and is now making projects on her own. The latest being two dragons. 

It’s funny how busy you can be with nothing to do. 

It’s funny how full a day feels when you have nothing to do.

It’s funny how much we miss when we pack our days, or weekends, with things to do.

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January 22, 2026 · 10:01 am

Falling in Love with Vinyl

My stereo system, from 1991, finally just stopped working about a year ago. I had a dual deck cassette player, CD player, receiver, and six speaker set-up that was in my corner library. I did not have a record player. In fact, I have never owned a record player. Until this Christmas.

As a Christmas gift my wife gave me a Victrola 6-in-1 Bluetooth Record Player & Multimedia Center. I can listen to my CDs, tapes, and now, for the first time, listen to records. 

During Christmas break I visited our new used record store downtown to buy a LP. I was hoping for a Prince record, but they didn’t have anything at that time. I ended up buying Poco’s Legend album, which has one of my all-time favorite songs, “Heart of the Night”.

When I got home, I immediately put the record on (Side two though because that side started with “Heart of the Night”). I’ll be honest, I was excited. I dropped the needle down, heard that hollow crinkling sound and smiled. Then the first notes of “Heart of the Night” started to play… and I was hooked. 

My record collection is at five albums, and yes one is Prince’s “Around the World in a Day”. Many of the times I am just chilling on the bed when I listen to any of the albums. Those moments remind me of doing the same in my teenage years. Most of the time with my best friend at his house listening to cassettes. I remember the trips to Casper to buy music. 

The other day as I was flipping over an album to the other side, I thought about the change in our culture around music. 

Like many kids, my children listen to music as they do homework, headphones on, YouTube or Spotify playing their playlists. All my children have CD players in their room. Their music collection isn’t vast, but they ask for music as gifts. We definitely listen to music in the car, I mean we spend a lot of time traveling and we have some fun playlist we listen to.

But, what is missing in their life is the personal cost of time and care it took when I was a teenager, and now revealed in what it takes to listen to an album. 

Here is what I mean, to listen to an album I must take it out of the sleeve. Place it on the player, physically move the needle and when the side is done, I have to flip the record over. To listen to a record I know I have to invest time and care even to enjoy the music.

There is so much missing from the musical experience today. It was hard to find hard facts, but for streaming revenue a song only has to be played between 30 and 50 percent of the length. Another stat I came across was that listeners only complete 50% to 80% of a song when it is on a playlist. Completion rates were higher for album plays (GEARNEWS).

Music doesn’t mean the same to my children that it does for me. And part of the reason is that they have not invested anything in listening to music. Like anything in life, when we invest our time, our energy, our hearts, it means more to us. 

Every physical form of music, LP, CD, cassette, and even 8-track cartridge, has a physical, emotional, and time cost associated with it. Each form is unique in those costs; fastforward / rewind for tapes, dropping the needle down, switching tracks if we want to hear a certain song. 

But I think the most interesting factor is the commitment to listening. Every form can be background music, every form can be heard while just chilling in the room, but the physical forms will have a stopping cue, a moment that you have to physically change the format. Even CDs will end. But the deeper aspect is the anticipation of that favorite song coming on, even if we are using the music as a backdrop, we know that a particular song will be next, so we may choose to stop washing dishes to dance or sing along with the song.

The full experience of listening to music in physical form adds a depth to the moment that digital music usually misses or fails to create for us. And in that depth, we can remember other moments, feel a range of emotions, and share, like best friends chilling on the floor waiting for THAT song to play, a rich and wonderful time with someone.

I like digital music. Again, we have travel playlists we listen to in the car, but we don’t skip songs. We sing and, yes, dance to our favorite songs. But, my new Victrola has Bluetooth capabilities that I have not used. I would rather put a record on…

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January 4, 2026 · 5:09 pm

There will come a time

I am going to just warn you now, this post will ramble but try to connect the dots at the end.

I just finished my walk about 20 minutes ago. And I thought about a lot of things, had a lot of dots on the paper of my mind. But let’s start in the middle of my walk.

There is a small cemetery, Sunset Memorial Gardens, that I walk past on one of my routes through my neighborhood. Sometimes, I stop to sit and reflect. Today was one of those days. As I sat down on a bench the “Love Theme from St. Elmo’s Fire” started to play in my earbuds. St. Elmo’s Fire is one of my favorite movies, so it got me thinking.

I took a couple of pictures to share on social media. I tend to take unique pictures on my walk just to share. While I was taking the photos I noticed that there were two fresh mounds of dirt. One of the grave sites did not have a date on the tombstone, but the second one did.

This is when the dots filled my head.

Here I was standing by her grave on January 4, 2026. Janice was just days away from the New Year when she passed away.

I, we all do to a degree, take time for granted. I have a specific pair of shoes I use for my walks. I am in the middle of logging the steps I take on my walks in these shoes for a blog post when I get new shoes.

I am assuming I will be here in 6 months. That I will be able to walk, to listen to music, to think, and write poetry.

For my faithful readers, you know that I’ve learned 6 months can change everything (A Tweet about a Death Goes Viral).

As I continued on my walk I was deep in thought about life. A poetic line came to mind, “There will come a time…” (I’ll share the poem later in the blog).

Thinking about the poem led me to something that has been heavy on my heart lately… about how much I have failed in accomplishing my big dreams. I let myself down all the time. I have books I want to write. I want to learn to play the piano (or at least write this song I have). I want to help people write better (this is an idea in the works).

But instead… I fail.

Like all of us, life tricks us into believing there is time. And the trick is that there is time… until there isn’t. And we don’t know when that time will end.

On the home stretch of my walk, I spotted an older couple walking their dogs on the golf course, at times holding hands waiting for their second dog to catch up.

It was a beautiful site and reminded me that no one knows how much time they will have. But we are all given a life. And we do get to decide on how we live it. Failing at dreams, walking on a 60 degree January day, or making it home to be a dad…when I got home my second daughter needed help getting her boomerang (she got for Christmas) down from the roof of the house.

Some dreams are so big they have to be accomplished everyday.

Ohhh, yeah, I wrote this poem while walking too. This is the draft from my notes. The final poem will be worked on later.

“There will come a time”

There will come a time

Because of a dead watch

When I will stop moving

My hands across my face 

To check how well I shaved

To start a new day

There will come a time

Because of the sunset

That I will be encased in darkness

Like Orion

Dreams stuck in position

Of a constellation of the past 

There will come a time

Because of the last page

That I will no longer

Be able to write

A single word of a poem

Or love letter for her to read

There will come a time

Because of the rules of LIFE

I will reach the end

Have no more turns to spin the wheel

Get an action card

Have a pet

Or fill my little green car

With people I love

One last thing, here is the song that played as I came home.

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December 31, 2025 · 8:19 pm

2026 Word

Next year starts 2026. As we have done since 2015,each member of the family chooses one word for the next year. We each share the reason behind the word, and then design our display. This year we are using small wooden clipboards. 

As you can see from the picture my word is MAGIC. 

There are a number of reasons behind my choice for the word. I want to create more magical moments, which I tried to do this Christmas, actually, when Santa visited our house for everyone. There were 8 filled stockings under the tree (my six children and my new daughter-in-law and my son’s longtime girlfriend). And yes, Santa visited my wife, even if she didn’t get a stocking, she had presents under the tree.

But to have magical moments I have to be active as a father, a husband, and even as a poet. Magic doesn’t happen staring at a screen. It happens when my children laugh, my wife smiles, someone replies to a poem I wrote. 

I have some really big goals this year. Accomplishing them will be magical. Jon Finch once said, “Magic is the poetry of impossibilities, each trick a stanza in the verse of wonder.” And I am a good poet.

Here is to a magical 2026.

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December 28, 2025 · 11:35 am

More Like Love

I’m going to start with a song for my intro.

I’m not sure what actually triggered the slight shift of my perspective. I can not pinpoint the week, the day, or the hour that I really started to consider how important it is to make sure my actions represent love. 

For the last couple of months I have been conscious of what my actions are revealing about what this world is about. It is a daunting thought. My smile for a person in the grocery store will not create a viral trend. My dad joke in class only gets a few chuckles and quite a few groans. The question about Christmas gifts I ask for the barista is only for them. My insight on a poem shared on X is quick but could be so much deeper.

My actions will not change the world.

I could easily walk past the person in the cereal aisle. Get right to the lesson plan in class. Wait for my coffee silently. Just repost the poem.

The world would continue as is.

Except for the change in the moment and what the world could be like if all the moments were like the first examples. And let’s see if I can express this personal idea clearly.

In one way, Ben Rector said it well, “But now I just wanna look more like love.” 

On the surface that is the idea, but the reason why is important. My actions express to everyone what the meaning of life is. But so does everyone’s actions. The person driving while busy on their phone says that the content on the screen is more important than driving safely. The fights in the stands of sporting events say that being a fan of a team is more important than being respectful of another person. There are so many examples of heartbreaking actions in this world that reveal people’s meaning of life is not love or the well being of others. Even my own parents taught me that drugs, alcohol, and other people were more important than me.

Our everyday actions reveal our meaning of life to the world. To the people around us, the people we love and the people we can’t stand. And it’s hard to not be swayed by things like money or success (which Ben Rector’s song deals with). It’s hard not to be judgmental, especially for people we don’t get along with.

But, the other day as my wife and I were having dinner at Red Lobster, a little boy across the aisle was looking at us. His mom and dad were trying to get him to eat some broccoli. His other brother was nicely eating corn and shrimp. I smiled at him. His face lit up and then he buried his head in his mom’s arm. Then he shot a look back at me. I smiled again. He smiled and then buried his face again.

I remembered when we would bring our children to Red Lobster. How my oldest daughter loved the broccoli, but my boys wanted applesauce. I smiled again at the little boy because I wanted him to know this world was filled with love.

Even though I know the little boy would learn that the world is also filled with things like hate and broken relationships, I wanted my actions to show him that this world can be a wonderful place, as I hope others would show my own children.

My actions will not change the world. But at any given moment, I can look more like love. I can show another person in that single moment that the meaning of life is love. If you put enough moments like that together, a life can be wonderful. It can be strong enough to withstand the negative waves that happen to us all.

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October 19, 2025 · 8:19 pm

Reflections on a Sunday without Blueberry Muffins

This morning we had day-old Krispy Kreme donuts for breakfast. We packed our suitcases and got checked out of the hotel in time for church at 9:30. We saved a seat for my son and his wife, my new daughter-in-law, of less than 24 hours. 

We spent the weekend rehearsing, celebrating, and witnessing one of love’s milestones. As the father of the groom, I didn’t have a ton of responsibilities. We catered the rehearsal dinner which was held at the church. My hair takes like 30 seconds to get ready… now, my wife and daughters? Well, that started at 9 in the morning Saturday for a 2 o’clock wedding. So for those who know me, yes, I had time to think, to reflect on the deeper aspects of this weekend. 

Social Media

For the most part, I put my phone away. I took some pictures, but my wife is better at that aspect of our life. I did interact a little on X and Instagram, but mostly I enjoyed the weekend. I did not post a single thing on social media about the weekend. I was letting other individuals do that. I was just present, and it was joyful. We talked, we went and got coffee, we sat by the firepit at the hotel. (My daughters and I did witness a guy riding a bicycle crash into the closed gate where we were sitting, but that is another story.)

At the reception we danced and enjoyed the dinner. 

But what I really noticed was the emotions we all expressed. The genuine feelings, the tears, the laughter, the expression of living without worrying about getting the right angle for a photo, or hurrying to post a reaction. I was in the moment, and it was a beautiful moment.

Family

There were two different moments that highlighted what it means to be family. If you’re new to my blog you will need to read some past blogs to understand my complex story. I am not going to spend time covering that.

The first moment happened after the rehearsal dinner. My future daughter-in-law was carrying a tote bag with “Mrs. Boelhower” printed on the side in script lettering. When I asked about it, her face lit up with a smile. She explained it was a gift and asked if we liked it (my wife and daughters were with me). One of my daughters piped up and said, “Wow, now there are two Mrs. Boelhowers!”

We all laughed but it got me thinking…

Hold on, let me connect another moment.

The reception hall was filled with family and friends. My daughter and I were taking a break from dancing. I sat next to my ‘adopted’ dad (again, if you’re new to my blog you’ll have to catch up on the backstory) and chatted about life. My wife’s side of the family was strong in numbers, and so was my daughter-in-law’s.  But there were only 9 Boelhowers. And one of those just joined our clan.

A weird mix of pride, sorrow, and resolve washed over me. I was the patriarch of this small family tree that was slowly growing strong roots. As my son danced with his new wife, I had to catch my breath because I saw, as they danced, that all the pain I endured, all the hardships I went through, the sometimes spirit-breaking decisions I made, was worth it. I had a family, I was providing, as best as I could, a life for my children that I never had.

Family is not just blood. It is choices, it is commitment, it is love given and received. My daughter-in-law will be loved just like my own children. And I will continue to nurture this little family tree to take root in a life filled with love.

It is all Connected

No, not this blog. But the idea behind the title of this blog. Sometimes it takes decades to see how two dots connect. During the church service the priest was talking about this idea, and he mentioned that he did not know every parishioners’ story that brought them to the church today, but he imagined they all had their own hardships and celebrations. But they were here now.

During the reception, I was aware of how important the moment was when my ‘adopted’ father said I could live with him and his family when I was sixteen. There was a direct line from that moment to the wedding. The story between the dots is fascinating, filled with heartache and joy, like any story. But without the opportunity he gave me, we would not be sitting together laughing and talking about life.

It is hard to have what I call The Long View. A term I use in the classroom to help my students see that their actions today will impact where they are in the future, what opportunities they will have. But when looking back (and I think we should, to appreciate the journey) we see the path, we see the benchmarks of how life brought us to today. 

And we can smile, breathe in the joy, and see how it is all connected… and this weekend proved that the best connections are built with love. 

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August 10, 2025 · 6:58 pm

No Blueberry Muffins

Faithful readers know that on Sunday we make blueberry muffins for breakfast. That almost didn’t happen today.

First a little backstory. Yesterday (Saturday) my wife’s sister hosted a couple’s shower for my oldest son and his fiancee. It was a good day of fellowship with family and friends. And there was a fantastic brunch; two types of breakfast casserole, biscuits and gravy, homemade cinnamon rolls, and a variety of fruit. One of the trays was decorated with pieces of pineapple and watermelon hearts on skewers. 

Of course there were leftovers. We came home with a small pan of breakfast casserole, biscuits and gravy, and a dozen cinnamon rolls. (My wife’s family always makes enough that you take home some leftovers!)

Last night as my wife and I talked about the day and the plan for breakfast on Sunday, the idea of just using the leftovers was a tempting option. But in my head I thought, ‘but it is Sunday, we make muffins and scrambled eggs and sausage.’ Plus, all our children would be at breakfast. That hasn’t happened in a long time.

I said that we should make our traditional blueberry muffin breakfast. My wife agreed. So, we got up early to make the muffins, but we still warmed up the breakfast casserole. A few of the kids added a cinnamon roll to their plates. And the morning was filled with laughter and conversation. We were a full family at the table.

Now, I understand that offering just the leftovers would have been fine. But blueberry muffins are a tradition. And sometimes, you have to work at keeping traditions. It is one of the ironies of life, how easy it is to do the easy thing and break traditions, or good habits you have fostered.

Our daily life is filled with moments that challenge us to choose an easy option, or an option that takes a little more work or energy, but has a better payoff and builds stronger bonds. Or, in our case continue a tradition that is central to our family. Blueberry muffins on Sunday morning.

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April 25, 2025 · 10:43 am

The End of Magic

It has happened. My youngest daughter knows that mom and I are Santa, Tooth Fairy, the Easter Bunny.

But not by me. I officially have never ended the magic of childhood. Last night my youngest daughter (11 years-old) asked my wife about it. And mom confirmed what my daughter had figured out. Ironically because the Tooth Fairy has been inconsistent.

Ironically, two nights ago my youngest daughter asked me about the Easter Bunny. About how we knew who’s eggs were whose. I said I received a magical letter that had the instructions. She asked to see the letter. I said it dissolved into magical pieces once I read it. She thought that was cool.

But as we grow older, the magic of life seems to dissolve into dust and we can’t get it back. Last night, mom informed our daughter that I still believed. My daughter asked my wife not to tell me that she knew the truth.

The magic of believing… in joyful expressions. 

I still believe in Santa, in the Easter Bunny, in the magic of the idea that life should be joyful. For my consistent readers, you know I believe in expressing our love to others everyday. But there is a deeper joyful feeling in believing in the magic of this life. Of childhood, of receiving a gift, or hidden eggs, simply because you are you. 

So, even though all my children know that I am Santa, I still believe…

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