The Roth IRA limit is $7,500 for 2026.
That's $145 a week.
If you invest $145 a week into an S&P 500 index fund for 30 years, you'll spend $225,000 of your own money.
But at retirement you should have $1.4 million.
That’s the power of compound interest.
Louis Leo “Lou” Holtz, legendary college football coach, Hall of Famer, bestselling author, and one of America’s most influential motivational voices, has passed away at the age of 89 in Orlando, Florida, surrounded by family. Born January 6, 1937, in Follansbee, West Virginia, Holtz rose from humble beginnings to become one of the most respected figures in college athletics. Over a remarkable five‑decade career, he led college programs at William & Mary, NC State, Arkansas, Minnesota, Notre Dame, and South Carolina. He transformed every team he inherited and captured the 1988 National Championship with the Fighting Irish. Holtz was preceded in death by his beloved wife of more than 50 years, Beth, with whom he shared a life grounded in faith, devotion, and service.
Holtz is remembered for his enduring values of faith, family, service, and an unwavering belief in the potential of others. His influence extended far beyond the football field through the Holtz Charitable Foundation and the many players, colleagues, and communities shaped by his leadership. He is survived by his four children, nine grandchildren, and two great‑grandchildren. Funeral arrangements, including a Mass of Christian Burial at the Basilica of the Sacred Heart at the University of Notre Dame, will be announced as details are finalized.
The Holtz Family
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In medical school, we are taught a golden rule: "When you hear hoofbeats, think horses, not zebras." It is a reminder to look for the common explanation before the exotic one. But after decades in cardiology, I’ve learned that if a patient is still suffering after the "horses" have been ruled out, a doctor must have the courage—and the curiosity—to go hunting for the zebra.
Sarah was a thirty-four-year-old marathon runner and a devoted mother who came to me after six months of being told she was "fine." She had been bounced from one specialist to another, each one pointing to her normal EKG and standard blood tests as proof that her crushing fatigue and racing heart were simply the result of "new mom stress." By the time she reached my office, she didn't just look tired; she looked invisible, as if the medical system had stopped seeing the woman and only saw the data.
Instead of re-reading the normal test results that had already failed her, I asked Sarah to walk me through her life. We talked about her training and her family, eventually landing on a backpacking trip she took to the Mendoza province of rural Argentina. She described staying in a charming, rustic cottage made of sun-dried mud bricks. She mentioned waking up one morning with a strangely swollen, purple eyelid that she assumed was a simple spider bite.
As she spoke, a memory surfaced from a biography I had read years ago about Charles Darwin. Most people know Darwin for his theories on evolution, but medical historians have long puzzled over the mysterious, debilitating illness that plagued him for decades after he returned from his voyage on the HMS Beagle. Darwin had written in his journals about being bitten by the "great black bug of the Pampas" while sleeping in mud-walled huts in South America. He spent the rest of his life suffering from heart palpitations and exhaustion that the Victorian doctors of his time could never explain.
I realized then that Sarah wasn't suffering from stress; she was likely hosting the same "silent killer" that may have haunted Darwin: Chagas Disease.
The "Kissing Bug" lives in the cracks of those mud-brick walls. It bites its victims—often near the eyes or mouth—while they sleep, passing a parasite called Trypanosoma cruzi into the blood. The danger of Chagas is that the initial symptoms disappear quickly, but the parasite can hide in the body for years, slowly weaving itself into the muscle and electrical "wiring" of the heart.
To confirm this, I moved beyond the standard tests. I ordered a specialized "Strain Rate" ultrasound, which doesn't just look at whether the heart is pumping, but at how the individual muscle fibers are stretching. We saw that while her heart looked strong to the naked eye, the fibers were "stuttering," a sign of early parasite-induced scarring. A specific blood test for the parasite's antibodies confirmed the diagnosis.
Treatment required a difficult, sixty-day course of anti-parasitic medication to stop the infection, paired with a protective heart regimen to keep her electrical system stable while the inflammation settled. Because we caught it before her heart was physically damaged or enlarged, the recovery was a success.
Months later, Sarah returned to my office, her vibrant energy restored. She brought me a leather-bound copy of The Voyage of the Beagle with a note tucked inside. She wrote that while other doctors had looked at her charts, I had looked at her. This case remains a vital reminder for my memoir: in a world of high-tech scans and AI, the most sophisticated diagnostic tool we possess is still the human story. When we truly listen, we don't just find the disease—we find the patient.
Good morning.
James Sexton, divorce attorney who's seen it all, drops a raw truth bomb:
Our entire society is engineered to distract you from the one fact that would shatter the consumer machine—if you truly internalized that you're going to die, you'd stop buying most of the meaningless shit they're selling.
He proposes a radical reset: Mandatory 1–2 years of hospice volunteering at 18.
Why? Because spending time with the dying strips everything bare.
They don't talk about their bank accounts, status, or possessions.
They talk about:
- The people they loved
- The connections they made
- The beautiful (and painful) experiences
All the "important" drama in your day evaporates the moment you walk out of that room.
Sexton shares his mom's final cancer surgery—20 minutes in, doctors closed her up: cancer everywhere, nothing more to do. In that instant, every other worry in his life got turned down to zero volume. All that mattered was time left to love her, to make sure she knew.
Reminder: There is a finite number of times you'll kiss your wife, hug your kids, call your parents. You don't know the number. You'll only realize it after you've passed it.
That finitude is what makes every moment sacred.
Living forever would be a curse.
Right now, the people you love are alive—right now.
Kiss them as many times as you want.
That is the greatest thing in the world.
Powerful, uncomfortable, beautiful perspective. Keep death in your line of sight—it's the ultimate clarity filter.
I mentioned a random brand of dog food in a private conversation. 10 minutes later, I had an ad for it. It’s not a coincidence, and it’s not magic.
Your phone is "shadow-logging" your life through 5 specific settings you’ve likely never touched.
Here is how to stop the eavesdropping:
Hundreds of people gather at the State Capitol, a morning raid in Pettis County leads to a pair of arrests, and more in today's Morning Minute! 📺
https://t.co/2PZsAPcEPS
🇮🇪
In 2009, Liam Emmery planted this Celtic Cross pattern in the woods in Donegal
Liam passed away in 2010, but by 2016 the Cross had became visible
@catholicarena