I pray that everyone is happy and healthy. A few weeks ago we all enjoyed another amazing awards banquet. It was so good to get outside the academy and share an intimate evening with all of you. I hope that you enjoyed it as much as we did.

As most of you know, my Dad passed away in December. I would like to share with you what I learned from my Dad during his final days. If this is not a new lesson to you, I believe it will be a much needed reminder to all of us.

I teach my Black Belts a quote from the late great Choi Hong Hi who founded our system of Taekwondo. He wrote that a good Instructor is one who teaches with physical demonstration when young, with words of wisdom when old, and by moral precept even after death. I am committed to follow this path as I have always found it to be a powerful statement. With the passing of my Dad these words took on a new meaning as he had actually completed all three of these stages.

My family accompanied my Dad to his first oncologist appointment on a Thursday evening. It was very cold that day and was raining harder than I had wished. My Dad had lost the ability to walk by himself just a few days prior to this appointment. Getting him in the wheelchair, into the car, and out of the car into the doctor’s office was no easy task. The rain soaked us and the cold air had a way of adding a bit of spice to

an already gloomy moment. I can honestly say that once we were in the doctor’s office I was probably the most scared I’ve ever been in my life. We knew my Dad had cancer, and we knew it had spread throughout his body. I knew after many sleepless nights of research that my Dad was not a candidate for treatment. Being the positive man I am and the man of faith I am proud to be, I welcomed God to perform one of his many miracles, only if it was his will. Once we dried off, my Dad whispered to me “Why are we here?” I told him that I prayed that my research was wrong and I needed to hear his prognosis from a professional. He held my hand and nodded his head to assure me that he respected my wishes. I wondered what was going on in his mind as we waited to see the doctor. We were soon called and I rolled my Dad into a private room while my Mom followed us. My brother and sister remained in the lobby praying and awaiting the news. Once we settled into the room my Dad reminded me of a promise I gave him earlier in the day. In the event of bad news my Dad did not want to be hospitalized or have his life prolonged by any artificial means. He wanted to stay in his home with his family. I promised him that I respected his decision and would help our Mom convince our family to abide by his wishes. I gave him a hug and kiss and I reassured him of my promise. He again nodded and held my hand. At that time our oncologist walked in. She was a very professional looking woman in her 50’s, with a strong presence to her. She sat in a chair in front of my Dad and said, “Michael, it does not look good, you have a few days left.” So much for small talk or a few minutes of medical lingo that no one would understand. Her words punched me harder than I had ever been hit in my life. My mind raced. I looked at my Mom, I looked at the doctor, then I looked down at my Dad. Without a seconds delay, he calmly and jokingly asked the doctor if she would do him a favor and speak faster. We all respected her honest approach, I know that my Dad appreciated it most of all. I left the room to go tell my brother and sister of the news. This is not the type of news I had wanted to share with my family, and I broke down with them outside. After a quick debriefing, we all re-entered the room, and after asking numerous questions we said our good-byes to the doctor.

Somehow, my Dad’s state of mind was unaltered. He was calm and accepted the prognosis as if he had already knew the outcome. As I rolled him out of the office and into the lobby I silently wept. Tears fell, my face distorted with pain, but the man I was pushing in front of me did not know. I stayed strong as my brother and I began the process of loading my Dad into the car in what was now not just a cold, rainy day, it was one of the last days our Dad would be with us. During the ride home, I wondered what my Dad felt like. Was he scared? Did he have regrets? I thought of every possible thing that would enter one’s mind after hearing this news. While I cried inside and pondered many things, my Dad kept telling me which way to turn to get back to his house.

That night was a special night indeed. My Dad expressed so much love for all of us. He told us how proud he was and never stopped being himself. The next two days were no different, except that my Dad aged 10 years each day. By Saturday he was waking up for a minute at a time. He was surprised and frustrated that he was still alive, but with each awakening, he told us he loved us and quickly fell back asleep. We had taken turns being by his side. For the most part, my older brother and I stayed during the day and my sister and younger brother stayed throughout the night. My Mom stayed by his side 24/7. That night my Dad went to be with the Lord. I felt relief!! Relief for him!! I had a sense of peace fill my body and comfort me as if I were a small child. What a man! What a Dad! He was now at peace! Below are the lessons I learned in his final days:

Lesson 1: I always wondered how an older person viewed themselves when they become ill. When you look in the mirror who do you see? Do you see what reflects in the mirror? Or do you see what lives inside of you? My Dad answered this for me without me asking him. I was helping him go to the bathroom and he said, “Look at this, this is not me.” My Dad viewed himself as a strong middle aged man. The shell of what reflected in that mirror was not what he thought of himself. The lesson: Time flies and has its way of creeping up on us faster than we think. Do not wait for tomorrow, do it today. Continue to eat healthy, train harder than ever, and defy what the mirror reflects back at you.

Lesson 2: Imagine you are sitting in a wheelchair and you are told you have just a few days at the most left. Death is real! Some of us go suddenly, some tragically, and some suffer for years. My Dad was told he had days. He had to somehow deal with that and at the same time not freak out his wife of 55 years, his 4 children, 5 grandchildren, 8 sisters, and nearly 50 nieces/nephews/friends who visited him during the last few days of his life. He never once stopped being who he was. There was no gloom, no pity, and no sorrow. He was simply in his final stage of life and accepted it. The lesson: Strength! Strength like a I wish I had! Strength that would make a cement block or stack of wood appear as paper. We need to be not just physically strong but strong in faith. Strong in our commitment to our family and loved ones. So strong, that when we pass away everyone gains strength from us, as I did from my Dad.

Lesson 3: Our life is but a vapor in the grand scheme of the world. No matter how hard we train, no matter how many championships we’ve won, we are very fragile! The lesson: Make your minutes count! Stop all feuds. Pick up the phone and tell an old friend that you love them. Chase after goals. Enjoy the seasons. Enjoy the sparkle in your spouses eyes when they hug your children. My Dad made his last two days perfect for all of us. We were all spared from the should have, would have, and could have that life can bring.

Lesson 4: Whatever your faith may be, learn as much as you can about it. The lesson: Faith can take the fear out of death. My Dad had no fear of dying. He told my sister that he was going to put a special word into God for her because she was so special to him. His faith not only comforted me, it inspired me. On the morning of my Dad’s funeral, while we were eating breakfast, Mikayla was having a great time just chatting away. I asked her who she was talking to. She looked up at me and said “Daddy, ....Poppy is sitting right here!” Now, she had no idea of my Dad’s passing as I had kept all emotion away from her. I truly believe that was my Dad’s way of letting me know he is okay and heaven is real. For this I am grateful.

Lesson 5: The final lesson lives in General Choi’s last stage of being a good instructor. Being able to lead after death by moral precept. What we do here on Earth, every minute of every day, has profound consequences. The actions we take as leaders will influence people to make a positive or negative choice. So think before you speak! Count to ten before you react! Forgive simple mistakes! Be positive! And see the best in everyone! This is what people will remember you for. Not for the wealth you've accumulated or how good you looked, but for how you lived. The decision and actions that I make in life will live through all of my students for generations. My Dad’s teachings still echo in my head whenever I am in need of an answer. Make your life one that will teach and lead others long after your time here on Earth expires.

I pray that sharing this with you helps in some way. Each of us is a ripple in a pond somewhere. Together we can make a wave in the biggest of all oceans .....Our children!

Live Smart,

Mr. Serdinsky