1 . My memories of my father are divided into parts and shares. Alive, and then dead. Healthy, and then helpless. And further back in time, the first and most division: Present and then absent; loving, and then indifferent.

He used to be a good writer and loving father. When I was a 16-year-old girl, he was fired from his company, a public, gossip-based dismissal that he would spend decades refusing responsibility for. This was the first crack that divided my relationship with him into poles of before and after. To escape his shame, he pushed away those who reminded him of it, first divorcing my mother, then alienating my sister and I.

As an adult, my relationship with my father was one of low expectations and high boundaries. He spent most of his time travelling. But when he died of heart failure in August, I was knocked off balance by the weight of the blow. I thought, after years of setting up delicate fences around our relationship, that I had already begun letting go. His death delivered a realization: despite years of analyzing his complicated love for me, there were pieces of my father I never understood—until I found my father’s notebooks in his cupboard.

In the notebooks, he often collected documentation: train tickets from Rome or a photograph of San Francisco’s Prescott Hotel. But what he was also doing was offering fatherly guidance, the kind I could only receive after he died. His life, in which what he had was never quite enough, was eventually exposed. In his final decade, he realized he had built a castle for himself upon sand and regret. Now in his entries, I hear his voice. “Debaleh,” I hear him say, using his pet name for me, “learn from my mistakes.”

I read these pages among my dad’s clothes, and wept. I hadn’t known that my father, too, lived with that familiar ache for new horizons in his heart, the one that can only be comforted by traveling.

2 . Sometimes our friends’ behavior can offend (冒犯) us; sometimes we can see changes they need to make — but how do we tell them?     1    

It’s important to have solid evidence that there is indeed a problem. Evidence that can be agreed upon makes it easier for other people to recognize issues.     2     Psychologist Andrea Bonior suggests framing problems with “I”. Saying “I feel hurt that you spend less time with me” is less accusatory (谴责的) than “You never spend time with me!” and is focused more clearly on the impact.

    3     Becoming tense might lead you to react badly and cause an argument. Bonior recommends that you should acknowledge the conversation could make you anxious. If you think about this yourself, it can help you focus on positive results. If you admit your anxiety to your friend, you will show a more human side. Another psychologist, Laura Brennan, points out how it’s important that we let go of our ego (自我) and don’t focus on the need to be proved right. This can help reduce tension.

    4     Many experts recommend planning your words so that you can say things in a way that avoids conflict. However, Bonior cautions against overplanning, as this can stop you from being flexible enough to genuinely follow and participate in the discussion.

Be realistic. Complicated problems are unlikely to be solved with one conversation. Consider what is possible in one discussion and that it may be harder than you initially thought.     5    

3 . Recently, my husband and three kids were playing in the Mediterranean, swimming and floating in the picture-perfect sea. It was extremely beautiful in Majorca, Spain. The way the sun danced across the water and how the blue horizon was dotted with storybook sailboats were such beautiful scenes. I almost couldn’t believe my eyes.

My husband and I always dreamed about taking our kids on a trip around the world. It was something we always wanted to do “one day”. It was one of the things we talked at length about, when we imagined our life with the children we hoped we would have.

Fourteen years later, we had three boys who were growing up faster by the day. It was time to make good on those plans.

We spent dozens of hours discussing, researching and planning. We had to learn how to “road school” our kids and arrange time off from work. We renewed our passports, and then packed our bags. We showed our kids the world. It was about experiencing the dozens of flights and trains and taxis together. We showed them how wonderful, how diverse, and how amazing the world is. We wanted them to learn all that we had learned ourselves, through our own travels as young adults.

But there was something more than that: What we really wanted is to slow down time. We wanted the days to last a bit longer, and the weeks to take their time. The years with our children are going too fast. We wanted to put the brakes on (阻止) our busy lives for a year, and just be with our kids. We wanted a break from the daily morning routine of making lunches, eating breakfast and rushing out of the door in time for school. We needed a family time-out.

It was a wonderful two-month trip in Europe, full of incredible moments. And when we look back at our lives, I know we’ll be glad we did it. I know we’ll be happy that this is a chapter of the story of our family.

4 . Unable to hold back my curiosity any longer, I opened the beautifully wrapped present. It was a shiny, new laptop. I had scored straight A’s for my examination and this was my reward. I had always envied (嫉妒) my friends who were always exchanging news about “chat rooms” or “e-mailing”, which I knew nothing about. Now I was going to find out.

It started out simply enough. I was searching for some information online when I came across a social networking site. Soon I became attached to my new-found electronic friend. I began to spend more and more time on YouTube and became controlled by Facebook and Twitter. Whenever I was not accessing these social networking sites, I would be going through gossip (八卦) or fashion websites.

As time passed, I would lock myself in my room during weekends, refusing to come out and take part in family discussions. I preferred to stay connected to the “friends” online whom I had never met. Soon I was spending the early hours of the morning surfing the Internet. Sleep became broken naps and my grades at school also began worsening.

It was about this time that my parents started voicing their disapproval. I was asked to reduce my usage of the Internet. Yet, however hard I tried, I was unable to pull myself away. I was thirsty for just another click, or just another look at message board. Then one day, my father took away my laptop. I cried, shouted and even begged but in vain. Dad had made up his mind.

Over time, I realized that Dad and Mum had always wanted the best for me. That was when I decided to take the big step—to quit my internet addiction. Quitting was harder than I expected. But with strong determination, I knew that I would be able to do it. I promised my parents that I would turn over a new leaf.

8 . Two years ago, my 11-year-old son sat me down for a talk. “Mom, it’s time.” he said. “Hear me out: It’s time we got actual TV. And you need an iPhone.”

This funny conversation two years ago marked a shift in our relationship. Perhaps for the first time, I began to really listen to my son’s opinion about our home technology. Since his reasoning was sensible and his suggestions within budget, I took his advice and was pleasantly surprised with the results.

I’d known for a while that my son understands technology better than I do. On airplanes, he grabbed my phone to put it in airplane mode. He wired the speakers in our house. After something was stolen from our front yard, he picked out, set up, and now monitors our security camera. When my computer died, I took him shopping with me.

As a teenager now, he has a busy social life, with skateboarding, basketball, and online gaming with his friends. I see our time together decreasing and our shared interests shrinking. That’s why I jumped at the chance when a friend mentioned writing technology reviews. I’m a writer, but I’d need a partner who has more tech knowledge than me. When I presented the idea to my teen, he immediately accepted

It’s changed our relationship in surprising ways. Where he used to get annoyed quickly at my technical ignorance, he’s learned to be more patient and explain things to me in a way that I can convey to an unknowing audience. The parent-child dynamic is not only changed; it’s even slightly reversed — he’s leading me. I’m asking him for help and advice. My son has risen to the occasion. He’s taking it seriously, and to watch him mature in this way is an honor. As someone who’s not much of a reader, he now searches instruction book. Without any prompting, he’s even emailed and called, yes, made an actual phone call to customer service or tech support when sample products weren’t working as expected.

I never imagined being a tech reviewer, but it’s proved to be a valuable way to learn from, work with and enjoy time with my teen.