The cracked (有裂缝的)step four years ago was the start of it. That day, I awoke tired-the children were tiny and needing so much — and I had a golden afternoon of rest ahead, my mother stepping in to allow me to catch up on my sleep. I dropped them off and drove home -the sun shining and my bed signaling. As I was about to enter the house, I caught sight of a deep crack beneath my feet.

Without thinking, I turned around walked back to the car and drove to a DIY store. Four hours later, I had all the tools, had mixed my own cement (水泥), filled in the crack and repaired the foundation. Perfect. As I stood up to take a photo of my handiwork, I realized that I was trembling. I'd forgotten my shot at a nice long nap, and my children were already on their way home. That sleep... that promise to self was broken, because I had focused, instead, on the crack in the step.

Suddenly, everything started to hurt. My head, my throat, my back. I couldn't stop shaking. What earned then is that when we break the promises we make to our bodies they will not be silenced. This is when we overwork and overthink to the point of breaking down. Ironically, for many of us, it is only when we have no choice — when we fall ill — that we learn to listen. For me, when that crack ended in a hospital stay which sent me to bed for two unmoving weeks while my body worked to clear two different infections, the lesson is ever present. I did it to myself — a whole twisted spin on DIY.

Sadly it took another two ridiculous DIY projects or the message to finally get through. The cracks will never be fully filled. Focus, then, on your own inner core the feeding of that light, that fire and that strength.

It was a Sunday and the heavy storm had lasted all night. The morning after the storm, though, was beautiful: blue skies, warm air and a calm, inviting sea touching the shore gently.

My father realized it was a good day for fishing and invited my sister and me to go with him. I was only 14 and fishing had never been my thing, but I decided to go all the same. I’m so glad I did.

On the road to the harbor we could see the terrible destruction on the coast, but the harbor itself was in fairly good shape. After all, it was protected by the arms of a bay that had only one tiny channel to the sea. As we got on board, we noticed two big humps (脊背) in the distance.

On approaching them, we saw it was a mother whale with her baby. We couldn’t believe it — there aren’t any whales along the coast here. The storm must have driven them across the ocean into the bay, in which the still water was so badly polluted that nothing could survive.

The little baby whale — actually as big as our boat — was obviously stuck and could not move. The mother dived under the water and came up suddenly, making big whirlpools(漩涡) and waves. “She’s trying to help her baby, but on the wrong side,” my father said. At this point, my father moved our boat in a semicircle to the other side and, heading the boat towards the baby whale, pushed it gently. With our several gentle pushes the big hump turned over and disappeared under water. Then it swam up right beside its mum. They struggled in their desperate attempts to escape but missed the exit and started heading in the wrong direction. We hurried up to the whales and tried to lead them towards the bay channel. Slowly, they let us lead them, some-times rising from the water right beside us to breathe — and to give us a trusting look with those huge eyes. Once they hit their first part of clean water flowing straight from the sea, the mum gave us a wave with her tail and off they swam into the distance.

In the excitement it had felt like only a few minutes, but we had been with those wonderful animals for almost an hour and a half. That was the simple and lasting beauty of the day. Nearly four decades later, I still look back fondly to that golden day at sea.

Every man wants his son to be somewhat of a clone, not in features but in footsteps. As he grows you also age, and your dreams become more unachievable. You begin to realize that your boy, in your footsteps, could probably finish what you hoped for. But footsteps can be muddied and they can go off in different directions.

My son Jody has hated school since day one in kindergarten. Science projects waited until the last moment. Book reports weren’t written until the deadline.

I’ve been a newspaperman all my adult life. My daughter is a university graduate working toward her master’s degree (硕士学位) in English. But Jody? When he entered the tenth grade he became a “vo-tech” student (技校学生). They’re called “motorheads” by the rest of the student body.

When a secretary in my office first called him “motorhead”, I was shocked. “Hey, he’s a good kid,” I wanted to say. “And smart, really.”

I learned later that motorheads are, indeed, different. They usually have dirty hands and wear dirty work clothes. And they don’t often make school honor rolls (光荣榜).

But being the parent of a motorhead is itself an experience in education. We who work in clean shirts in offices don’t have the abilities that motorheads have. I began to learn this when I had my car crashed. The cost to repair it was about $ 800. “Hey, I can fix it,” said Jody. I doubted it, but let him go ahead, for I had nothing to lose.

My son, with other motorheads, fixed the car. They got parts from a junk yard, and ability from vo-tech classes. The cost was $ 25 instead of $ 800.

Since that first repair job, a broken air-conditioner, a non-functioning washer and a non-toasting toaster have been fixed. Neighbors and co-workers trust their car repairs to him.

These kids are happiest when doing repairs. They joke and laugh and are living in their own relaxed world. And their minds are bright despite their dirty hands and clothes.

I have learned a lot from my motorhead: publishers need printers, engineers need mechanics, and architects need builders. Most important, I have learned that fathers don’t need clones in footsteps or anywhere else.

My son may never make the school honor roll. But he made mine.