Thank You: Start with the Give-Me Shots Is a Best Seller

By Marney Andes

I’ve always been a mover and a shaker, thinking about the next job, the next win, the next move. 

When I had my oldest son when I was 29, I was in my early career, trying to move up. I didn’t spend as much time reading to him at night as I did with my younger son. I still had a routine with him, sure, but with my youngest, I’d read chapters upon chapters to him every night, whereas looking back, I realized that I brushed over that part with my oldest.

I realized that I was focusing so much on growing my career that I was losing sight of the little moments, the little celebrations, the little pieces of connection that made life with him so special. I constantly thought about what needed to be done, not about what was right in front of me.

Some might read this and think, “so you didn’t read to him as much-- big deal.” But for me, it was a big deal. Those little moments with him at the end of the night connected us after a long day of his learning and a long day of my work. It was what reset the day and prepared us both for a good night’s sleep.

For a while, I beat myself up about this. I looked at everything I did with my youngest and judged my past self for not thinking of doing it with my oldest. I spent so much time thinking about the should-haves and the would-haves, regretting my past actions, that I didn’t remember that with my oldest, I would snuggle him every single night. I’d squeeze him and tell him how much I loved him.

And that is worth celebrating.

Lesson 8: Self-Reflection

The last chapter in my book is about reflection. It’s called “What Did You Do for the Good of the Community Today?”. It’s less about philanthropy than some may think. 

It’s really about reflection.

Every day after school when I was in grade school, like most parents, my dad would ask me, “what did you learn at school today?” Searching through my brain, I’d oftentimes answer with “I don’t know,” but with further investigation from my dad, minutes later, I’d be able to tell him moment by moment everything that happened. Once I was out of school, the question evolved into something that would later make it into my book: “What did you do for the good of the community today?”

At first, it was always difficult to find an answer I was truly happy with. But the more time went on, the easier it got to find something to acknowledge within myself that I was proud of. Soon enough, it became a natural part of my night-time routine, and after moving away from Wallace, after starting a new job in the city, after getting married, having kids, and even after my dad passed away, I still ask myself this question at the end of each day, as if he was right there next to me.

In my book, I say that we have three choices each and every day: to do something to improve ourselves, to do something to harm ourselves, or to do nothing at all. It doesn't matter how big or small these "somethings" might be; being aware of them helps us check in to celebrate the little wins and work on what fell flat. This question reminds us that our accomplishments are meant to be celebrated and helps us practice giving them the space they deserve.

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And that’s what is so important about my writing this book. I had to remind myself through my dad’s words that all I need is to go back to my community to remember who I am and why I'm here.

Most importantly, now I can gracefully take this moment to thank the two big factors that brought me to this celebratory moment.

My Thanks to My Dad and to My Community

To my community:

I have a one-liner in my acknowledgments to Wallace at the end of my book that I didn’t delve much into. There were so many people I wanted to thank, but Wallace, Nebraska as a whole probably could have used an entire page. If not, an entire chapter.

In my dad’s own inadvertent way, by asking me this one question: “What have you done for the good of the community today?” He was reminding me that my community is always doing something good for me. That our humble little small town that most people in America haven’t heard of always has my back. He was asking me to see if I’ve given back to the one thing that gives back to me every single day, without ever asking for anything in return. Even after moving out of Wallace, he still has me asking myself:

How am I giving back to my community?

How am I showing up as myself in my community?

How am I contributing in my own ways to make a greater impact on my life and thus the community?

This link to the community and my own personal development was so much closer than I’d ever thought, and thanks to my dad, I knew enough to thank an entire town in my book because, without it, I probably wouldn’t have written it.

This gratitude doesn’t just stop at Wallace. It’s an extension to all small-town communities in Nebraska, in America, and the world, to which they’ve brought valuable life lessons and a place to land to each and every one of their members, no matter who they are. 

Along with gratitude, I also hold hope for anyone who hails from a small town to remember to thank their community for having their backs, even when they didn't think they needed it.

Now, to my dad:

My dad had a sheer willingness to show me all of his sides. The serious side, the humorous side, the concerned, the passionate. Through his openness and blunt honesty, I learned lessons powerful enough that extended beyond Wallace, and now, I share stories that expand beyond state lines. 

As much as there were positive, uplifting, and inspirational moments in my book, there were also some pretty harsh ones. But ultimately, my journey isn’t worth sugarcoating. Stories aren’t just meant to uplift. They’re meant to teach and to be remembered. 

Writing this book brought me the clarity to my dad’s lessons that I needed to better myself while also learning how many more stories I'm holding in my heart that I know I need to share.

Through clarifying the lessons that my dad so lovingly gave me, I have this book. Through this book, I’ve taken them on a new level, but I’ve also given others the space to share their own stories. What I’ve been searching for throughout the book that I finally realized was not only my love for sharing stories but my love for inspiring others to share stories. 

So to everyone mentioned in my book’s acknowledgments, and especially to Wallace and to my dad:

Here. This is what I've done for the good of the community today. It wasn't writing this book; it was acknowledging that I did something worth celebrating.

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So, now I’m going to challenge you to reflect within yourself:

What have you done worth celebrating today?

We’re not talking about how big or small your success was. We’re talking about one thing that you did that elevated your life. It could be that you got everything done on your checklist. It could be that you set out to get up at 5:00 am, and you did. It could be that you said you’d make a meal and sit down with your family to enjoy it, and you did it.

Most people associate success with something huge and momentous. But the problem with this is that you won’t achieve anything if that’s all you’re going for. You’ll never see what’s right in front of you: the little things you’re doing as a mother to show your son endless love, the big win in the competition, the best casserole you’ve ever made.

The little milestones are just as much part of the journey as the winning basket is. You have to acknowledge and reflect on the milestones in order to feel the rush of the ball swishing through the hoop to score the winning point.

And even if you don’t have a “big goal” that you’re working towards-- you can still appreciate what you do every day to make life meaningful for yourself and the people in it. Find that person, whether it be yourself in the mirror or that one friend who always wants to celebrate you, to share your successes with.

So, with gratitude, self-reflection, and a whole lot of celebration, here's me, sharing my success without a shred of doubt, embarrassment, or fear.

What’s yours?