THE GLASS IS ALWAYS FULL:A FATHER’S LESSON THAT LIVES ON

So many times in life, without warning, my father’s voice echoes in my mind. His outlook—his way of seeing the world—finds its way into my thoughts, often when I need it most. And now, as the years pass, I can’t help but believe that this is his way of reminding me that his lessons were never meant for just one moment… they were meant for life.

One of his simplest, yet most profound lessons came through a glass of water. As far back as I can remember, he would fill a glass, place it before us, and ask:

“Tell me… is this glass half empty or half full?”

It wasn’t just a question. It was the foundation of how he wanted us to view the world. And it wasn’t about being naive or overly optimistic. No. It was about choosing to see what is there, rather than what isn’t.

He always made his point in a way that quietly anchored itself into the core of who I am.

Because life—oh, life—doesn’t always hand you the answer you were hoping for. You don’t always get the job you wanted. The car you dreamed of might slip through your fingers. The money, the opportunity, the perfect plan—you might watch it pass by.

But my father, steady as ever, would remind us:

“When you don’t get the answer you wanted… look again. Look objectively. You might just see the full glass.”

What he meant was simple, yet profound: Not getting what you thought you wanted could be life’s way of protecting you, redirecting you, or preparing you for something far greater. The “no” might actually be a “yes” to something unseen. The disappointment might secretly be grace.

It wasn’t just about seeing the glass half full. It was about knowing that the glass was, in fact, always full—half with water, half with air—both essential, both life-sustaining.

I realize now that my father wasn’t just teaching me about perspective. He was teaching me about faith… about trust… about surrendering to the mystery of life without falling into despair.

His voice lingers still.

In moments of loss.

In moments of uncertainty.

In moments when life doesn’t look the way I imagined.

And every time, I hear it…

“Look again. The glass is always full.”

A father’s lesson. A life’s truth. A legacy I carry.