A Father's Rules for Finding Fulfillment

This is a continuation from the previous post.

Be courteous, be punctual, always say please and thank you, and be sure to hold your knife and fork properly. Others take their cue on how to treat you from your manners.

Be kind, considerate and compassionate when others are in trouble, even if you have problems of your own. Others will admire your selflessness and will help you in due course.

Show moral courage. Do what is right, even if that makes you unpopular. I always thought it important to be able to look at myself in the shaving mirror every morning and not feel guilt or remorse. I depart this world with a pretty clear conscience.

Show humility. Stand your ground but pause to reflect on what the other side are saying, and back off when you know you are wrong. Never worry about losing face. That only happens when you are pig-headed.

Learn from your mistakes. You will make plenty so use them as a learning tool. If you keep making the same mistake or run into a problem, you’re doing something wrong.

Avoid disparaging someone to a third party; it is only you who will look bad. If you have a problem with someone, tell them face to face.

Hold fire! If someone crosses you, don’t react immediately. Once you say something it can never be taken back, and most people deserve a second chance.

Have fun. If this involves taking risks, so be it. If you get caught, hold your hands up.

Give to charity and help those who are less fortunate than yourselves: it’s easy and so rewarding.

Always look on the upside! The glass is half full, never half empty. Every adversity has a silver lining if you seek it out.

Make it your instinct always to say ‘yes’. Look for reasons to do something, not reasons to say no. Your friends will cherish you for that.

Be canny: you will get more of what you want if you can give someone more of what they desire. Compromise can be king.

Always accept a party invitation. You may not want to go, but they want you there. Show them courtesy and respect.

Never ever let a friend down. I would bury bodies for my friends, if they asked me to . . . which is why I have chosen them carefully.

Always tip for good service. It shows respect. But never reward poor service. Poor service is insulting.

Always treat those you meet as your social equal, whether they are above or below your station in life. For those above you, show due deference, but don’t be a sycophant.

Always respect age, as age equals wisdom.

Be prepared to put the interests of your sibling first.

Be proud of who you are and where you come from, but open your mind to other cultures and languages. When you begin to travel (as I hope you will), you’ll learn that your place in the world is both vital and insignificant. Don’t get too big for your breeches.

Be ambitious, but not nakedly so. Be prepared to back your assertions with craftsmanship and hard work.

Live every day to its full: do something that makes you smile or laugh, and avoid procrastination.

Give of your best at school. Some teachers forget that pupils need incentives. So if your teacher doesn’t give you one, devise your own.

Always pay the most you can afford. Never skimp on hotels, clothing, shoes, make-up or jewellery. But always look for a deal. You get what you pay for.

Never give up! My two little soldiers have no dad, but you are brave, big-hearted, fit and strong. You are also loved by an immensely kind and supportive team of family and friends. You make your own good fortune, my children, so battle on.

Never feel sorry for yourself, or at least don’t do it for long. Crying doesn’t make things better.

Look after your body and it will look after you.

Learn a language, or at least try. Never engage a person abroad in conversation without first greeting them in their own language; by all means ask if they speak English!

And finally, cherish your mother, and take very good care of her.

I love you both with all my heart.

Daddy

A Father's Message From Beyond the Grave: My Darling Children, Here's How to Live Your Lives When Daddy's Gone

Memories of Mandy Flanagan’s late husband Paul fill the house they used to share. Pictures of him as a floppy-haired schoolboy, a handsome teenage rugby star, a newlywed, and a devoted dad, adorn the walls and window ledges of their country cottage.

But Paul, a teacher, who died of cancer at the age of 45 in November 2009, passionately believed his children, Thomas and Lucy — just five and one-and-half years old at the time — should have more than fading photographs to remember him by.

‘There was nothing more important to Paul than being the best father he could be,’ says Mandy, 44.

‘When he knew he was dying, there was no time for self-pity. He became absolutely focused on doing whatever he could to continue being a good dad to them throughout the years, even though he wouldn’t be here in person.’

He wrote them letters, filmed DVD messages, bought future birthday presents, and even filled a large chest with his favourite books.

‘Each book is accompanied by a note to Thomas and Lucy explaining why Paul loved it, and how much he hopes they will too when they’re old enough to read it,’ explains Mandy.

But perhaps Paul’s greatest gift to his wife and children was a document titled ‘On finding fulfilment’, which Mandy discovered on his laptop, by chance last month.

‘I opened it and, with tears rolling down my cheeks, I discovered his bullet-pointed code to living a good and happy life,’ says Mandy.

‘The list of 28 instructions for living a good life contained no empty platitudes; each one completely reflects the way that Paul lived his own life.

‘He was wise and brave and decent to the core, but I could never have found the words to sum him up so perfectly as he has himself.

'I can’t tell you what a comfort it is to know that our children will grow up with a real understanding of what made Paul, Paul.’

She adds: ‘It would have been our tenth wedding anniversary this year, and while we didn’t have a perfect marriage — lots of love and laughs, but lots of arguments too — I realised when I read his words that, when it came to the stuff that really matters in life, we were absolutely united.’

Addressing his children, who were too young to comprehend the tragedy that was unfolding, Paul writes: ‘In these last few weeks, following my terminal diagnosis, I have searched my soul and heart to find ways in which I can reach out to you as you grow up.

‘I’ve been thinking about the matters in life that are important, and the values and aspirations that make people happy and successful. In my view, and you may well have your own ideas by now, the formula is pretty simple.

‘The three most important virtues are: Loyalty, integrity and moral courage. If you aspire, friends will respect you, employers will retain you, and your father will be immensely proud of you.

‘I am therefore giving you several pieces of advice. These are the principles on which I have tried to build my life and they are exactly those that I would have encouraged you to embrace, had I been able to.

‘I love you very much. Never forget that.’

What follows is an extraordinary list of rules, which could enable us all to live better lives. It encompasses everything from the importance of table manners to the perils of gossiping and everything in between.

‘And it’s just so Paul!’ laughs Mandy today.

‘It makes me cry but it really makes me smile too.

‘He was an old-fashioned school-master and utterly meticulous when it came to manners. I’m obsessive over the kids’ “pleases and thank yous” because I know that Paul never let them get away with it.’

Mandy reads aloud from the list: ‘Be punctual … Show moral courage … Never, ever let a friend down … Well, that was Paul. He was maddeningly early for everything. He spoke up for what he felt was right, no matter how unpopular it might have made him. And I have never met anyone so loyal to their friends.

‘He also wrote that they should never give up, and he certainly never did. He fought so bravely, so courageously, right to the end.’

Paul was first diagnosed with skin cancer in 2004. A birthmark on his chest had become malignant, and was swiftly removed in November that year, when their son Thomas was just a few months old.

In January 2008, after years of regular check-ups, he was given the all-clear, when Mandy was expecting Lucy.

‘He was such a positive person, but he never allowed himself to believe that the cancer had been dealt with,’ says Mandy.

That May, a swelling appeared under Paul’s arm and specialists quickly confirmed his worst fears. The cancer had spread to the lymph glands in his arms, and was detected in his neck soon after. Surgery and radiotherapy did little to halt its progress. And, in March 2009, scans showed that the cancer had spread to his brain and his condition was terminal.

‘He never pitied himself,’ says Mandy. ‘The diagnosis, and perhaps the drugs he was on, triggered a sort of mania. He suddenly had so much energy. While I lay awake upstairs worrying, Paul would work through the nights, determined to get his affairs in order.’

He meticulously organised the family finances, arranged his own funeral, and even bought his own memorial bench for the grounds of Reigate Grammar School, where he had taught economics since 2003. He also set up a cricket team for all of his friends, who now play annual memorial matches to raise money for the Melanoma Foundation.

Over the weeks, piles of shoeboxes full of paperwork, hand-written letters and DVD messages for his family and friends took over the dining room.

And as his health deteriorated, Paul insisted that he and Mandy went shopping for Thomas and Lucy’s 18th and 21st birthday presents.

‘I wonder how we got through those days, but there’s a strange kind of adrenaline that just keeps you going,’ says Mandy.

‘You just want to do whatever feels right. We went to a jewellers in Spitalfields market in London to buy Lucy an eternity ring for her 21st.

‘When the woman at the counter asked: “Is it the right size?”, Paul and I just looked blankly at each other. “We don’t know,” I said.

‘She looked at Paul and saw how desperately ill he was. Then all three of us looked at Lucy sitting in her pushchair, completely oblivious to it all.’

Lucy was christened last summer. As a result, she has one godmother and nine godfathers — each a close friend of her father’s.

‘He wanted his friends to have a permanent tie to his family, I think,’ says Mandy. ‘And if Lucy couldn’t have her father, a fantastic team of godfathers was the very least she deserved.’

By the time Paul died — at home, eight months after his terminal diagnosis — Mandy felt certain that he would rest peacefully in the knowledge that he had left the best legacy that any father could.

‘When some people are told they have just a few months to live, they decide their life won’t be complete until they’ve bungee-jumped off Sydney Harbour Bridge or seen the Grand Canyon. But that wasn’t Paul. All that was important to him was right here.

‘He lived and died by his own rules, and I know he had found his own fulfilment.’

The Bucket List

Things To Do:

ü Been in a rain forest

ü Been lost

ü Been on a plane

ü Blown bubbles

ü Cried yourself to sleep

ü Done something you told yourself you would not

ü Gone on a blind date

ü Gone to the movies

ü Hit someone on the face with your fist

ü Laughed until some kind of beverage came out of your mouth

ü Lay down outside at night and admired the stars while listening to the crickets

ü Lived in more than one country

ü Made prank phone calls

ü Met with an accident in a vehicle

ü Paid for a meal with coins only

ü Played cops and robbers

ü Recently colored with crayons

ü Ridden on a cable car

ü Sang Karaoke

ü Seen whales in the ocean

ü Skipped school

ü Swam in the ocean

ü Traveled by motorcycle

ü Traveled by train

ü Watched someone die

ü Watched the sunrise with someone

ü Written a letter to Santa Claus

Been bitten by a spider

Been deep sea fishing

Been horseback riding

Been in a hot air balloon

Been kissed under the mistletoe

Been on a cruise

Been on a helicopter

Been sky diving

Been snow-skiing

Been to a wax museum

Been to the Olympics

Been water-skiing

Caught a snake with your bare hands

Caught a snowflake on your tongue

Danced in the rain naked

Gone bungee jumping

Gone ice-skating

Gone snowmobiling

Gone scuba diving

Had porcupine meat for Lunch

Ridden on an elephant

Seen a falling star and made a wish

Taken a close up picture with a celebrity

Watched a turtle lay eggs

A Letter from Abraham Lincoln to His Son’s Head Master

Abraham Lincoln, the 16th president of the United States of America (1861 – 1865) is one of the world’s great statesmen for all time. Here is a letter written by Abraham Lincoln to the Head Master of his school in which his son was studying, a letter so typical of the man who bore malice towards none and had charity for all.

My son starts school today. It is all going to be strange and new to him for a while and I wish you would treat him gently. It is an adventure that might take him across continents. All adventures that probably include wars, tragedy and sorrow. To live this life will require faith, love and courage.

So dear Teacher, will you please take him by his hand and teach him things he will have to know, teaching him - but gently, if you can. Teach him that for every enemy, there is a friend. He will have to know that all men are not just, that all men are not true. But teach him also that for every scoundrel there is a hero, that for every crooked politician, there is a dedicated leader.

Teach him if you can that 10 cents earned is of far more value than a dollar found. In school, teacher, it is far more honorable to fail than to cheat. Teach him to learn how to gracefully lose, and enjoy winning when he does win.

Teach him to be gentle with people, tough with tough people. Steer him away from envy if you can and teach him the secret of quiet laughter. Teach him if you can - how to laugh when he is sad, teach him there is no shame in tears. Teach him there can be glory in failure and despair in success. Teach him to scoff at cynics.

Teach him if you can the wonders of books, but also give time to ponder the extreme mystery of birds in the sky, bees in the sun and flowers on a green hill. Teach him to have faith in his own ideas, even if every one tell him they are wrong.

Try to give my son the strength not to follow the crowd when everyone else is doing it. Teach him to listen to every one, but teach him also to filters all that he hears on a screen of truth and take only the good that comes through.

Teach him to sell his talents and brains to the highest bidder but never to put a price tag on his heart and soul. Let him have the courage to be impatient, let him have the patient to be brave. Teach him to have sublime faith in himself, because then he will always have sublime faith in mankind, in God.

This is the order, teacher but see what best you can do. He is such a nice little boy and he is my son.

Robby's Night - True Story Worth Reading

At the prodding of my friends, I am writing this story. My name is Mildred Hondorf. I am a former elementary school music teacher from Des Moines , Iowa . I've always supplemented my income by teaching piano lessons-something I've done for over 30 years. Over the years I found that children have many levels of musical ability... I've never had the pleasure of having a prodigy though I have taught some talented students.

However I've also had my share of what I call 'musically challenged' pupils. One such student was Robby. Robby was 11 years old when his mother (a single Mom) dropped him off for his first piano lesson.. I prefer that students (especially boys!) begin at an earlier age, which I explained to Robby.

But Robby said that it had always been his mother's dream to hear him play the piano. So I took him as a student. Well, Robby began with his piano lessons and from the beginning I thought it was a hopeless endeavor. As much as Robby tried, he lacked the sense of tone and basic rhythm needed to excel but he dutifully reviewed his scales and some elementary pieces that I require all my students to learn.

Over the months he tried and tried while I listened and cringed and tried to encourage him. At the end of each weekly lesson he'd always say, 'My mom's going to hear me play someday.' But it seemed hopeless. He just did not have any inborn ability. I only knew his mother from a distance as she dropped Robby off or waited in her aged car to pick him up. She always waved and smiled but never stopped in.

Then one day Robby stopped coming to our lessons.

I thought about calling him but assumed because of his lack of ability, that he had decided to pursue something else. I also was glad that he stopped coming. He was a bad advertisement for my teaching!

Several weeks later I mailed to the student's homes a flyer on the upcoming recital.. To my surprise Robby (who received a flyer) asked me if he could be in the recital. � I told him that the recital was for current pupils and because he had dropped out he really did not qualify. He said that his mother had been sick and unable to take him to piano lessons but he was still practicing. 'Miss Hondorf, I've just got to play!' he insisted.

I don't know what led me to allow him to play in the recital. Maybe it was his persistence or maybe it was something inside of me saying that it would be all right. The night for the recital came. The high school gymnasium was packed with parents, friends and relatives. I put Robby up last in the program before I was to come up and thank all the students and play a finishing piece. I thought that any damage he would do would come at the end of the program and I could always salvage his poor performance through my 'curtain closer.'

Well, the recital went off without a hitch. The students had been practicing and it showed, then Robby came up on stage. His clothes were wrinkled and his hair looked like he'd run an eggbeater through it. 'Why didn't he dress up like the other students?' I thought. 'Why didn't his mother at least make him comb his hair for this special night?'

Robby pulled out the piano bench and he began. I was surprised when he announced that he had chosen Mozart's Concerto #21 in C Major. I was not prepared for what I heard next. His fingers were light on the keys, they even danced nimbly on the ivories. He went from pianissimo to fortissimo. From allegro to virtuoso. His suspended chords that Mozart demands were magnificent! Never had I heard Mozart played so well by people his age. After six and a half minutes he ended in a grand crescendo and everyone was on their feet in wild applause.

Overcome and in tears I ran up on stage and put my arms around Robby in joy. 'I've never heard you play like that Robby! How'd you do it? '

Through the microphone Robby explained: 'Well, Miss Hondorf, Remember I told you my Mom was sick? Well, actually she had cancer and passed away this morning and well. .. She was born deaf so tonight was the first time she ever heard me play. I wanted to make it special.'

There wasn't a dry eye in the house that evening.. As the people from Social Services led Robby from the stage to be placed into foster care, I noticed that even their eyes were red and puffy and I thought to myself how much richer my life had been for taking Robby as my pupil.

No, I've never had a prodigy but that night I became a prodigy . . Of Robby's. He was the teacher and I was the pupil for it is he that taught me the meaning of perseverance and love and believing in yourself and maybe even taking a chance in someone and you don't know why.

Robby was killed in the senseless bombing of the Alfred P. Murrah Federal Building in Oklahoma City in April of 1995...

Quarter-Life Crisis

It is when you stop going along with the crowd and start realizing that there are many things about yourself that you didn't know and may not like.You start feeling insecure and wonder where you will be in a year or two, but then get scared because you barely know where you are now.

You start realizing that people are selfish and that, maybe, those friends that you thought you were so close to aren't exactly the greatest people you have ever met, and the people you have lost touch with are some of the most important ones. What you don't recognize is that they are realizing that too, and aren't really cold, catty, mean or insincere, but that they are as confused as you.

You look at your job... and it is not even close to what you thought you would be doing, or maybe you are looking for a job and realizing that you are going to have to start at the bottom and that scares you.

Your opinions have gotten stronger. You see what others are doing and find yourself judging more than usual because suddenly you realize that you have certain boundaries in your life and are constantly adding things to your list of what is acceptable and what isn't. One minute, you are insecure and then the next, secure.

You laugh and cry with the greatest force of your life. You feel alone and scared and confused. Suddenly, change is the enemy and you try and cling on to the past with dear life, but soon realize that the past is drifting further and further away, and there is nothing to do but stay where you are or move forward.

You get your heart broken and wonder how someone you loved could do such damage to you. Or you lie in bed and wonder why you can't meet anyone decent enough that you want to get to know better. Or maybe you love someone but love someone else too and cannot figure out why you're doing this because you know that you aren't a bad person. You want to settle down for good because now all of a sudden that becomes top priority. Getting wasted and acting like an idiot starts to look pathetic.You begin to think a companion for life is better than a hundred in the shack and for once you would not mind standing tall for that special someone which otherwise you had never thought of until now.You go through the same emotions and questions over and over, and talk with your friends about the same topics because you cannot seem to make a decision. You worry about loans, money, the future and making a life for yourself... and while winning the race would be great, right now you'd just like to be a contender!

What you may not realize is that every one reading this relates to it.We are in our best of times and our worst of times, trying as hard as we can to figure this whole thing out. Send this to your twenty-something friends.... maybe it will help someone feel like they aren't alone in their state of confusion...

We call it the "Quarter-life Crisis"!

"Don't be Serious, be Sincere" - A Speech by Chetan Bhagat at Symbiosis

Don’t just have career or academic goals. Set goals to give you a balanced, successful life. I use the word balanced before successful. Balanced means ensuring your health, relationships, mental peace are all in good order.

There is no point of getting a promotion on the day of your breakup. There is no fun in driving a car if your back hurts. Shopping is not enjoyable if your mind is full of tensions.

"Life is one of those races in nursery school where you have to run with a marble in a spoon kept in your mouth. If the marble falls, there is no point coming first. Same is with life where health and relationships are the marble. Your striving is only worth it if there is harmony in your life. Else, you may achieve the success, but this spark, this feeling of being excited and alive, will start to die.

One thing about nurturing the spark - don't take life seriously. Life is not meant to be taken seriously, as we are really temporary here. We are like a pre-paid card with limited validity. If we are lucky, we may last another 50 years. And 50 years is just 2,500 weekends. Do we really need to get so worked up?

It's ok, bunk a few classes, scoring low in couple of papers, goof up a few interviews, take leave from work, fall in love, little fights with your spouse. We are people, not programmed devices"

"Don't be Serious, be Sincere"

Globalization - A Joke

Question : What is globalization?

Answer : Princess Diana's Death

Question : How come?

Answer :

English princess with an

Egyptian boyfriend, crashes in a

French tunnel, driving a

German car, with a

Dutch engine, driven by a

Belgian who was high on

Scottish whiskey, followed closely by

Italian Paparazzi, on

Japanese motorcycles, treated by an

American doctor, using

Brazilian medicines!

This was written by a

Canadian, using

American (Bill Gates') technology, which he got from the

Japanese.

And you are probably reading this on one of the IBM clones that use

Philippine / Taiwanese made chips, and

Korean made monitors, assembled by

Bangladeshi workers, in a

Singapore plant, transported by lorries driven by

Indians, hijacked by

Indonesians, unloaded by

Sicilian longshoremen, and trucked to your retailer by

Mexican illegals, and finally sold to you by

Chinese!


That's Globalization!!!