Lessons from Papa 2. Don’t Postpone Your Alaska.
Hi dear readers,
This is the last letter of this year, and just a heads-up: it will be an unusual one. A bit personal.
If you just subscribed and are looking for some actionable tips, take a look at several of my favorite letters from this year: on crowdfunding, pricing, and logos, plus the story of Laura and Kevin building micro resort in Virginia and another one on doing things that don't scale.
I love the end of the year as we review how businesses performed and how we did. This whole process of evaluating usually gives me a boost of energy that serves as a trampoline to the next year.
And so this year Rod and I set out to review, reflect, and talk through what’s coming.
We had some big and small wins throughout the year.
Rod got to work on some exciting projects in the hospitality space. I did too. We increased revenue on our properties. We automated more.
I started this newsletter in the beginning of the year. It now has more than 2,000 of you. Thank you!
We also didn’t hit some health goals, someone punched a hole in the wall in one of the Airbnbs, and there were a couple of other more significant items.
Some hard, some stressful.
Solvable.
But above all of these wins and some bitter losses, we had this one dark black cloud that absorbed all of them.
In comparison to this dark cloud, all the wins and losses seem minuscule, unimportant, and almost… irrelevant.
Unfortunately, Rod’s dad passed away this September.
He was battling an aggressive type of cancer for the past 3 years.
3 exhausting, painful years full of different types of therapy, doctors, and hospitals.
Shortly before he died, he said that he imagined his old years differently.
I call him Papa 2.
Today, I want to share with you 2 lessons I learned from him.
1. He was always there
Papa 2 worked in construction, building commercial buildings, apartments, and in-betweens. When Rod was little, he took Rod with him on many projects, talking about how things are built and why.
When Rod was failing math in high school, Papa 2 took him under his wing, reignited his love for math, and that consequently led to Rod teaching Calculus 2 and 3, becoming an engineer, and pursuing a career in construction and real estate.
When we got our first real estate projects (old buildings that needed full gut remodels), Papa 2 was the first one there. He had long been retired from construction, but he was there in person, on the phone, helping brainstorm, going to Home Depot, cutting wood.
When we had that last never-ending punch list (the final push after construction), he was right there placing all those wallpapers, assembling furniture, cutting the tiki-style countertops.
He was there when we just switched the toggle on and uploaded the listings on Airbnb, and new bookings started pouring in.
We celebrated together.
Rod and his dad had one of the strongest bonds I have ever seen between a dad and a son. I think the secret to it was that his dad was always there throughout Rod’s life.
And this strong bond was mutual.
We were there too. We sometimes saw each other for weeks, or visited him every weekend, or even spent the whole month together working, cooking, and playing dominoes.
One day when we were chatting about life, Papa 2 shared that he valued so much that all his children wanted to spend time with him and always called.
That made him happy.
2. Find something you love and share it with the world
Papa 2 loved cooking from an early age. It was his second passion after construction. After retirement, it became his first passion.
He could create authentic Thai cuisine for breakfast, mouthwatering Italian dishes for lunch, and delicious ramen for dinner that he would prepare for 24 hours.
On reunions with friends, no one cooked or brought food with them or ordered from a restaurant. He would cook for the whole group every time, and everyone loved it. He loved it too.
Every time he flew from California to visit us in Texas, his luggage would have a couple of t-shirts and the rest would be food. He unpacked it right as he entered the door and started cooking.
He fed his family, friends, strangers, and geese.
And when he couldn’t feed the geese himself, he would give us some food to feed them.
Cooking was his way of loving, giving, and sharing.
And I guess the last lesson, but more from my observation:
3. Don’t postpone your Alaska
Papa 2 always wanted to visit Alaska.
It was his dream.
Last summer we got the tickets for the whole family (all kids and grandkids), booked Airbnbs, had friends who would meet us there and show us around. We found some fishing trips to book.
Papa 2 was so excited.
But then another complication due to cancer. It was too dangerous to go.
We cancelled everything and thought we would go another time.
And another time never happened.
---
We miss him a lot.
We went through a numb stage of initial shock this September-November. Now the understanding is starting to creep in that there won’t be another dinner together, another conversation, another bear-like hug.
And that is permanent. There is nothing we can do about it.
Unsolvable.
We are trying to channel the sadness into work, cooking, weight lifting, and walks in nature. Music helps too.
Rod and I are going to take some time over the holidays with family. We’ll cook meals that take all day, feed a few extra ducks(no geese around) in Papa 2’s honor, lift heavy things, and come back in January ready to share more unique stays, more discoveries, and more of what’s ahead.
Until then, hold your loved ones close. Be there. Share something you love with the world.
Wishing you a peaceful end to the year and a bright start to the next.
With gratitude and a big bear-like hug.
See you in 2026, dear readers.
