All About the Little Moments
I had intended to write about something else today, but my heart took me in a different direction—to a story about my dad.
My dad passed away five years ago after a four-year battle with an aggressive cancer. He was 83 years old. While that’s a long life by many standards, it felt far too soon to lose someone who was such a big presence in my world. I miss him every day, but what brings me comfort isn’t thinking about how he died—it’s remembering how he lived.
The Captain of Our Lives
My dad was a captain, both literally and figuratively. After serving in the Greek Navy, he worked and studied to become a Captain in the merchant marines. My dad—known to many as Captain Mike—was the embodiment of confidence, intellect, grit, and strength. He commanded massive vessels with ease, but he also had a warmth about him, which was accompanied by a wide, welcoming smile (though road rage could occasionally make an appearance!).
Despite his adventures traveling the world, my dad’s greatest adventure was his family. When he had kids, he chose to stay closer to home. Instead of exotic voyages, he shared his love of exploration with me and my brother through storytelling. His tales of life at sea—complete with a water-loving cat as his sidekick—turned our ordinary living room into a portal to far-off lands. We may not have traveled the world, but his colorful stories made us feel like we had.
“Enjoy the little things, for one day you may realize they were the big things.”
The Power of Little Things
My dad wasn’t perfect—no one is—but he was engaged, present, and intentional about making time for us. It wasn’t the grand gestures that made my childhood special; it was the little things.
Weekend breakfasts, where he meticulously prepared all the fixings.
Simple bike rides around the neighborhood.
Day trips to pick strawberries or go fishing.
Building an enormous L-shaped table in the basement for our Lionel train set, and then all of us crafting model buildings together to complete the scene.
These moments may have seemed small at the time, but looking back, they were everything. They taught me the value of being present, of creating rituals, and of finding joy in life’s simple pleasures.
Carrying His Legacy
I am endlessly grateful for those memories. They remind me to slow down, appreciate the small things, and be intentional about creating similar moments with my own family. Because, in the end, it’s truly all about those little moments – the ones that seem small in the moment – that grow big in your heart over time.
For more on creating rich, family traditions, see my article, Holiday Traditions: Baking Memories, Not Just Cookies.