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After hours of planning and shopping, days of cooking and baking, your family table is ready for the big feast. Time-honored recipes will be savored and new tastes explored. A mixture of stories, laughter and even a few tears will season the meal. Some chairs will be empty and new additions celebrated. Whether it’s an expensive digital camera, a simple point-and-shoot or iPhone in your hand, why not curate the beauty, the warmth, the intimacy of the moment? Looking back, I wish I’d captured more images of my dad drenching steaming mashed potatoes in turkey gravy, of my sister slicing her artfully crafted pecan pies, of my young daughters eyeing the mile-high plate of homemade cookies with ardent hope. I wish I’d captured my mom’s hands as they kneaded  dough, my brother-in-law’s shoulders as he hunched over the fridge door looking for one more bite of cold turkey. I wish I’d photographed the warmth of candles, the sparkle of crystal, the gleam of mom’s “good china” alongside my...

Here he is. The man who inspired me to live today and tell the people I love how much they mean to me. He's accomplished more in his lifetime than you and I could dream of... so far. He doesn't do anything quietly or cautiously. He does it in CAPS. There has to be more for him. There has to be more for me, and for all of us. Get busy folks. Do a few card tricks. Amaze the people who know you best. Catch some crazy fish in Russia or South Africa. Collect fine wines. Cherish some singular, inspired artistic pieces. Love the second love of your life with all your might. Savor memories and dream a new dream. That's what Bill is doing. If he can do it, I can.

Emergency medical professionals — some do it right and some do it wrong. I met both kinds yesterday. A sharp, escalating pain in my left arm, accompanied by numbness and tingling in my left hand had me on edge about whether or not I was experiencing the onset of a heart attack. Symptoms lingered through the night and into the next day. My apprehension grew. I hedged. I debated. And as I was weighing the pros and cons of getting it all checked out (and paying the bill if it turned out to be a false alarm), I flashed back a few years to my younger brother's near-death experience. He was out for a walk and felt similar symptoms. He walked back home, drove himself to the hospital a few blocks away (bad idea, but the only option at the time) where he received a check over. Shortly after that he was admitted to the ER, where he arrested. Thankfully ER staff and equipment were both close at hand, and he survived, I believe, because of his quick, decisive, cautionary action. So I grudgin...

I once had a friend who spent half of her time being super-mom to two teenage boys, and the other half trying to break them of the creeping sense of “entitlement” she saw taking root early on. She noticed in them an almost demanding expectation that they were “due” certain food, designer clothes, taxi service, spending money, privileges, freedoms and quality of life. Their attitude angered her, and she was determined to reshape their thinking, or at least their behavior, in that area. And as much as we shake our heads at people, especially kids, who lack a natural reflex of gratitude or appreciation for the good things they enjoy — there is also an upside to “entitlement.” It’s not always a dirty word. Exhibit A: two-year-old Owen Grefrath, who helped me see that a sense of entitlement can be one of the best legacies we pass on to our children. I first saw Owen in action on a dairy farm, in a huge barn lined on both sides with hundreds of miking cows. He wasn’t much more than...