The Power of Facebook Again

This last Monday, my doctor from the Veterans Administration Hospital called and stated that I had a tumor in my right lung and said that she sent a referral to the pulmonary department of the hospital so they can work up a biopsy. As my earlier blog mentioned, I have been waiting since then for a call. Nothing. I called them and gave the appointment person a heads up regarding the referral on Tuesday. She said that the doctors had not reviewed the referral as yet and that when they did their nurse would call me. I called on Thursday. The doctors still did not even look at the referral and they had no idea when they would. Then I put a note on Facebook that I was worried about the length of time it would take for the doctors to review and decide the next step for my treatment. I was exposed to Agent Orange and have already had cancer more than a few times. The chances was good that it was a cancerous tumor and I was scared. I know it does not seem long, but I have had trouble with this hospital responding. On Friday, everyone was calling me including my doctor.

Maybe, I jumped the gun. I don't know. The last time I waited for a cat scan that was supposed to happen in a few days did not happen for almost two weeks. I learned not to wait but to call. I did not know there were appointment numbers I was supposed to call. In the Redding VA Clinic there were no appointment numbers. The different departments called the patient or sent them a letter. Since the Portland VA Hospital had trouble with my current address, I was concerned. When I did call the appointment person, they were vague about when the doctors normally reviewed the referrals. I got the answer "in a while" or "in a little bit" and so on.

I had used Facebook one time before and got the answer I wanted from the Veterans Administration. I still have not heard from phone calls I have made three or more weeks ago. Those calls had nothing to do with the lung issue and I can do without them. I am amazed that the notes placed on the Facebook Page of the VA can be so powerful. My son said that the one thing no government agency wants is embarrassment. Having a veterans putting a note for all to say stating they can't get anyone to answer their calls is embarrassing.

All I can say is thank you Facebook. I sent a message to someone from Washington who sent me a message from the VA there and thanked him for bringing it to the attention to the VA in Portland. I have been promised that I will have an answer to my question by Monday. It shouldn't have to be this way, but I am glad there is an avenue I can use to get answers when my life depends on it.

Sky King

One of my favorite programs growing up was Sky King staring Kirby Grant. He had a niece named Penny played by Gloria Winters. I was the only one of my friends who loved that show and it would surprise me that my mother let me watch it on Saturday mornings for she rarely let us kids watch television but she did me. I think it was only 30 minutes long.

Sky was always saving people including his niece, but he insisted that she learn to fly her own plane. A nephew came to live with them for a while, but he left which was good as I did not like him all that much. I identified with Penny. I liked Sky King's ethical code of ethics. I was growing into my teenage years and did not like what I saw around me. Many of King's stand of what was right and wrong became mine. He believed in women's rights and in the rights of everyone regardless of race to make their own decisions. I wasn't a teenager yet, but I carried those ethics right into my adulthood. I still do.

I never saw the actor do any other role but Sky King nor Gloria Winters do anything else. They retired not far from where I lived but I never saw them. They remained an influence to me. I was never a big western watcher although I admired Wyatt Earp or at least who I thought he was. I liked the western, "Tombstone Territory", because the story was about a sheriff or marshal and a newspaper editor. It was of short duration and disappeared into the television past. I liked Wyatt Earp because I read a book about him although the book was not based on truth which was a shame. I read another book years later that was and I found it fascinating.

I remember that time before I started into teenage years as a time when I wanted to find a foothold into who I was as a person. I did not find it in my parents for my father was an alcoholic and he found himself in the bottle. The parents of the kids I knew were very confused or I saw them as such in those days. The books that I read then were as confused as the people I saw. Many of the books in the library was on the suburban life which I had not found fascinating. I found books that were being written in those days were on either Henry the 8th or on Nazis. I read them because I had no choice. Young adult books were almost non-existent and I was finding the ones I did find as out of touch with the life I was seeing around me. There were exceptions but not many.

Television did not have much either. I could see there was change in the air though. I was optimistic about that and movies began to change with such movies as "The Graduate" and "The Sand Pebbles". There was still fluff being made and shown but good movies were being made that were more realistic and books began to change too. Foreign books were beginning to be translated and I was beginning to be able to read them such as Camus. I found the magazine, The Saturday Review, to be my window to these books.

Of course, the Women's Movement helped and so did the Civil Rights Fight helped as well as open my eyes. The Beat Generation also presented literature and poetry in a different light if one could get it. All of this is a highly selected viewpoint of what happened during the 20th century. Even my time in college was not as open to what was happening in the world as I would have liked but found out more in years to come.

Most things are happenstance in our lives. I don't know how Sky King came into my life, but I am glad he did. He gave me a good solid basis for starting my ethical conscious because it seems to me that I like the ideas he presented to me. It was not the ones my parents had nor the same ones other members of my family had. My sister married a hardcore Republican and she in turn became a conservative. My brother became a love child but without the solid commitment that most hippies had at the time. He seemed to like the trappings and then just dissolved into the drug scene not really thinking about anything. He left the world after serving as a U.S. Marine during the Viet Nam War. He seemed to be a person slipping and sliding into someone without any solid point of view except he did not like the world he lived in. He went on to try the next one.

The actor Kirby Grant, was pretty much like the role he played in Sky King and lost his life at the age of 73 on the way to watch the launch of the Space Shuttle Challenger in a traffic accident. He was interested in helping the many children who watched his show. I have often read people who wrote about how important his show was to their upbringing. He is buried in Montana where he was born. I was certainly one of them. When I hear a plane sometimes, I think of the Songbird which was the name of his plane and of all of the hours he logged flying for he was really a pilot.

Escape

I used to be so much better at escaping reality than I am now. I want to escape right now and I can't. In the past, I wanted to escape being me too. I thought I was a really boring, dull and not very intelligent person so I wanted to be someone who was not any of those things and used my imagination to do just that. I think that is called dissociation. I think I used to spend about 95 percent of my time in that made up world and the rest of the time in this one. Then I went into treatment with a wonderful therapist who helped me with the extreme forms of post traumatic stress disorder that I had. One of the side effects to the work I did with him is that I spend most of the time in this world.

A friend of mine who writes memoirs for a living is often criticized for not living in the present. He is actually in the same situation as I am. He used to lived most of the time in his imagination and because of his recovery from drugs and alcohol (I did not have this particular affliction), he now, like me, lives in reality. He uses his writing of memoirs to center himself in this world. I write journals. No one pays me for my journals. Ted says many times a day he wishes for that ability that he lost to just escape from the day to day existence he has to stay in this world. Recently, he spent some time in jail and although some good things came out of it, he had moments when he was there that he wanted to leave that place for a nice place and it was hard to convince himself that the talent for doing so went with the booze and drugs. He had to stay.

I am waiting for a phone call and the realization that I might not survive the current fight with cancer is something I can't run away from. The first time it happened in my life, I could hide in my imagination but I can't anymore. Ted told me that I need to really show my love for myself by staying in the present, by being mindful. I can't be mindful if I am full of fear. That is true. Instead of trying to hide, I have to face what is happening to me. Then I can exist in the present even if I don't like it. I certainly can't change it. I also can't make the phone ring although after a while if it doesn't I can go to the patient's advocate for some help in dealing with the pulmonary department of the Veterans Administration Hospital. My doctor called me on Monday and made the referral. It is only Thursday. I can do the 12 step program and give it to my Higher Power.

Friends have been supportive. Even my grandson who is 16 years old called me last night although he could not speak because his phone is not hooked up to a service. My oldest son calls often. My art teacher called last night as I have not been going to class. That was nice.

My best friend is myself and my Spiritual Guardian and nothing will be separating us even if I don't make it. I am feeling good about where I am living and will be going to see friends this weekend and attending a book club that I like. I did not like the last book we had to read but really like the one we are reading this time. I even lost a pound on my diet recently.

Last night I watched a movie that made me laugh. It was a movie about Dudley Do Right and the Canadian Mounted Police. It was a silly movie but I loved it. There were discussions about good and evil all of the way through it and of course good wins at the end when a character who turned his life around because of Dudley happens to reconnects with his family and his wife happens to be the new prime minister of Canada and orders the Mounted Police to save the Indians and Dudley from the evil guy from wiping them out. Again, it was silly but I laughed and felt good that good always wins over evil in those movies. I skipped the news after the movie which is a form of escape; but I read the paper this morning.

The fact that I can't escape like I used to is good because I have to face what is out there. My father could not face reality and drank a lot to do that creating a Hell on earth for the rest of his family. I know someone who weighs well over 300 lbs because he can't face reality and eats his way into fantasy and that is not healthy. I wasn't facing the things I needed to face or doing the things I needed to do because I was blissful in my own little world. I was good at it. I still visit that world but I use that time to write about it. One time I was sitting with several other women and an accident happened in front of us and I did not see it. I was in lala land. The others did and gave an accident report and I just repeated it. I was so glad I was not sitting at the bus stop alone. It was a man who in a drunken stupor rammed into a woman with her children who had stopped her car for a stop light. He really hurt that family. It is not pleasant right now, but I am glad I am here in reality.

Waiting

There have been times I have felt I spent my life waiting for something to happen in my life. This has been events centered in my earlier life such as waiting for people to give me lifts in their cars, waiting for people to call me about jobs, waiting for my grades to come in the mail, and so on. Now, I find I am in the waiting mode again. This time I am waiting on the Veterans Administration to tell me when my next medical test will take place and what is going to happen regarding the tumor in my lung.

I find the people I have to talk to are maddening with their explanations of time such as "it will take a little bit of time", "there are other patients", "someone will review your doctor's request in due time" and so on. I have learned that the people who make the appointments don't know anything about anything. I did not know the rules of the VA Hospital in Portland and lost some valuable time. Now, I know more but not enough. I sit here at home waiting and not knowing for sure if this is what I need to do. I talked with someone yesterday at a number I discovered on the Internet and he said that if I don't hear from anyone by 11 am this morning to give the same number a call again. It isn't even 9 am and I am waiting, checking my phone ever so often to make sure that the phone has enough battery to keep it charged up.

I listen to my body now and wonder whether or not every pain and discomfort is a sign that the cancer is spreading. My back is killing me because I have an old office chair and I sat in it too long or has the cancer spread to my back? I think my back is hurting because it is an old chair and the trip to Redding was really hard on it. It was seven hours one way. I took some pain reliever and am sitting in my bed with cushions because it is comfortable. I am waiting and carrying the phone around the apartment when I fix coffee or use the bathroom.

I know from experience that when you miss a phone call from the VA, they rarely answer it when you call back. One phone call that I got on the 15th from a doctor that I missed never answered my calls back. One time I had to go to the patient advocate to get an appointment at the cat scan which she did get for me. They would not call back.

I am a writer who has on occasion sent stories in and have waited at the mailbox. That was hard to wait for an answer on whether or not something was acceptable for publication. Then I was told that a check was in the mail for something and to wait for it to appear. I don't have much patience for boyfriends or I didn't years ago. It was not good form to call them and a woman had to wait. Many a woman's heart has been broken for the want of a phone call.

I remember once dating someone after I was divorced and I waited for his call and it did not come so I called him. He let me know immediately that he did not like women calling him. I thought the rules had changed but evidently they had not for him. We dated after that but I never called him again but waited for his call. I was glad when his job transferred him to a new city. He thought I would quit my state job and follow him. No, I would not. He thought I would move me and my children in with him and hope he would marry me someday. No thank you. I never regretted that decision.

This time, there is no romantic reason for my sitting here waiting for a phone call. I am not dealing with jobs or romances but a bureaucracy in an attempt to stay alive. There is nothing romantic about that.

Television

I moved here to Portland, Oregon the first week of May of this year. It was a good idea and I keep learning over and over again how good it was to have moved here. The one thing that I have not done was watch television. Sure, I watched the PBS Murder Mystery Theater about three times, but that is all. In Redding, I watched far more than that.

Across the street from my house in Redding, I had a neighbor named Rose who started to watch television from 12 noon and finished at 2 or 3 am, seven days a week. At noon, she would pull the curtains open and sit in her arm chair and turn on the television and eat all of her meals on a TV tray. I would often go over there and say hello and would find the same book on her small table next to her chair. I offered to go to the library for her but she said no. She had ordered that book off an add on the TV. She left the house for doctor's appointments only and a food truck delivered her meals. That went on for seven years until an ambulance to her to the hospital where she died.

We all choose the life we have. I used to think I did not want to spend all that much time watching television. When I thought about being on my death bed, I could not fathom thinking about episodes from television programs. I wanted to think about things that were real. For me, reading and listening to music help me enjoy life more but television was dead time. I would start watching a movie on television and several hours would disappear. That would be alright ever so often but as a steady diet I did not think that was for me.

I have Netflix and watch movies ever so often. I usually watch it on the weekends although after my walk last night I did watch a movie called "The Holiday". It was on another movie service and I thought it was very good. It was about several women who exchanged houses for the Christmas holidays and they find romance. It was fun, but I doubt if I will watch another movie today. I was at an impasse on a short story that I was writing. Now, I know what to do with it.

When I was a youngster, I loved the television show, "Bonanza" I watched it every Sunday but I can't recall any of the stories although I can remember the actors. The same goes for "77 Sunset Strip". I really liked the parking attendant, Cooky. Yet, the television series, "The Defenders" had stories that I remember to this day. They never have "The Defenders" on reruns. That was the series that stared E.G. Marshall. I did not watch all that much television then, only on the weekends. I loved "Star Trek" and can remember many of the episodes. I really admired Spock.

I remember going for walks after I did my homework in the evenings back then and I would hear the sounds of televisions coming out of the homes I passed and the sounds of canned laughter. That depressed me for some reason. It was beautiful in the Southern California evenings and in those days there was no smog. You could see the stars and moon clearly especially over the Pacific Ocean and the small islands off the coast. Usually, I was the only one walking. I could hear the "I love Lucy" and Jackie Gleason" shows. I thought what was happening outside was better than what was happening on those television sets.

When you sat in those living rooms and watched television programs, you did not have to talk to each other. Few people read books then as few people read now. Here in Portland, more people go to the bookstores and read in them. I don't know what is popular on television which is ironic since some of the programs are filmed right here in Portland.

I went out for a walk last evening and there were a lot of people walking and playing games. I walked on some of the walking trails that are around my apartment. I first went to Starbucks and bought some coffee and read The New York Times. I found myself just staring out the window at the trees and flowers in the small shopping center. There is a Lamb's Thriftway Market and I watched some people walking in and out of there. Finishing the paper, I left it on the table and walked outside. It was comfortably warm so I walked on the trails as I said and enjoyed the large old growth trees that are in my neighborhood. There are some nice apartments and houses around here too as well as a golf course.

I am glad to say that I was not alone. There were many people out enjoying the evening. In Redding, I would have been alone. Not in Portland. I am not sure why this place is so different. I wondered if the people here know how lucky they are to live in such a beautiful place but maybe they do. They were out walking in it, all different ages. There was a couple who were barefoot which was silly but that is the current rage. I am sure some orthopedic doctors will be making some money off that fad. I saw lots of dogs but all of them were on leashes. There were the normal amount of men out using their cell phones talking urgently in corners and one was in the kids bus shelter. Television was the last thing on their minds.

To my mind, television is a sort of suicide. It kills time but it kills the soul. I tell my grandchildren that it fries their brains. There I was in Redding allowing it to fry mine and that was not good. I am glad I am not doing that anymore. I lived in Korea last year and never had a television and never missed it. Of course, I had this computer that I am typing on now and the Internet. I watched documentaries. Now, I never watch them on the site I used. I read books when I could get them. I wrote a book of short stories. I was never happier except here. I love it here too.

I don't know why Rose, my neighbor across the street in Redding, watched TV so much. Maybe it made her happy. She told me she had a set schedule of shows that she watched everyday. She used to be active and involved with other people and with clubs but gave it all up. She began a relationship with her television instead. For all of those years I lived across the street from her, she never went to my house. She was not crippled or housebound. There was something that she did not want to see outside of her house anymore. She had a daughter who visited her and she never went to visit her either. In her obituary, her daughter put down that she was a active reader. When she had a garage sale, she put that book out for sale, the sales slip still inside of it. I don't know if anyone bought it although someone bought the television set.

Julia

I met a woman on one of my walks the other day. She was about ten years younger than me. Her name was Julia and she was pushing in a stroller a sweetheart of a boy, less than two years old. She explained that he was her youngest grandson and he was wonderful the way he laughed and played with his grandmother. She said his name was Jason.

We got to talking and exchanged first names only. We were in one of the small parks that is near where I live. She lived with her daughter and her husband and was caring for Jason while his parents were at work. Julia had a job working in part time in a non-profit senior center as an administrator in the mornings. I walk in the evenings after 5pm so I don't miss my phone calls from the VA Hospital.

Julia explained that she was getting a divorce from her husband of 30 years because he was so hateful and angry at her now that he was so ill. She was so glad that she had gotten an education while she was married and now had a decent job. He was a retired airline pilot and her cash settlement and the eventual part of his pension should give her a good life. I asked her if it was his illness, ALS, that was making him so difficult to live with. She was sure it was as she stated he was in the later stages of the disease. She told me that after she left he had to hire people to help him and none of them lasted very long. His doctor was now recommending that he go into a convalescent home. I wondered out loud if instead of a divorce, she could just put him into a home. She said she could not do that to him. I apologize and said it wasn't my business to say that. She said he was angry that he had this disease as he had been so healthy all of his life.
Once he was deceased, she would get their house back and she would move back.

She was looking for an apartment and asked about the ones that I lived in. I told her that I was very happy with it but that it did not have laundry hookups. I did not find that to be a problem. She wanted to stay in the same area as her daughter and her part time job.

When I got home, I realized that taking care of someone with ALS, is not pleasant. Gradually, paralysis spreads to the body and her husband because he is in the later part of the disease is having trouble swallowing. She mentioned that he needed help in breathing. Not only was her husband angry that he had ALS, but she was unhappy with it too. She probably felt she did not sign up for it either. She would have to take the abuse her husband gave to anyone that cared for him in his last illness. It would be better to get a divorce and then go back after his eventual death since there is no cure.

Julia told me that when she first met her husband, he was a pilot and she was a flight attendant. He was very good-looking and had many women chasing him. He was proud of his looks and thought she was the best looking woman he ever met. Even at her age, she was still a good looking woman. She worked hard to keep herself trim and in good condition. It must be hard to be let down by one's own body or the body of one's husband. He had been working at the gym on a regular basis even after retirement from the airlines when he noticed something was not right and went to his doctor. She said he was devastated by the diagnosis.

There is no happy endings in life at times. I just found out that I have a tumor in my right lung. No one knows for sure if it is cancerous or not. I will have to go under for a biopsy or whatever it is called. I just hope I don't get angry about it.

Death of a Young Person

I am writing about Amy Winehouse who was found dead at the age of 27. Like so many people I have read stories about her from time to time about her battles with alcoholism and drug addiction. Different journalists said it was expected, but I did not expect her death. I had hoped she would somehow find her way out of the black hole she had found herself in. I am not really writing about Winehouse who seemed genuinely talented and gifted musically but about all of the young people who leave this planet too early. I am very sad for them.

I remember being that age. I had issues from childhood that were very real to me then, and I am not writing to second guess Winehouse's issues for I have no idea what they were. I just know those issues from my childhood had a strong hook into my life. I had no children and no reason to live except the sense of optimism that somehow I could escape the grasp of that nightmare and find something better which I did. Death did look good to me at times, but not enough to actually open one of the many doors that led to that place for many of my friends were into drug and alcoholism which I knew led there. My own brother went through that door and died at an early death.

I had more friends in those years than I do now. I had more lovers then too. I fell in and out of love more than several times but only one or two times actually stayed for good in my heart. One of them recently passed away. In those days, my parents were alive and in the throes of their misery too. Friends were alive that are now dead. Everyone I knew were trying to find a form of happiness and so few found it. I did not know very much but I knew happiness did not come out of a bottle or out of a needle or powder. I knew it because my father was an alcoholic. My brother was one as well as my sister.

I guess I am sad because so many young people walk down the hallway and open doors that look good on the outside but are deadly to use such as drugs and alcohol. I am not saying that had anything to do with Winehouse's death. But it did not help her with her life. I know I looked at alcohol with longing for it gave me some moments of forgetfulness when I did drink. It numbed the memories which seemed so horrible and abhorrent that I wanted those moments of peace. I saw what happened to my father when he crawled back to sobriety from a night of drinking and all of the unhappiness that resulted. I wanted no part of that. I said no to that and I guess I did not inherit the propensity for alcoholism as my brother and sister did. I lucked out.

I don't know why I survived and why so many in my past did not. I remember talking to my brother who I got along well. I told him that he needed to get some help. He was a Viet Nam veteran and the VA was of no use then. They did not care about him and just ignored him after they gave him a check every month. He was homeless. He could not stay in an apartment. I did not know about AA then. He did and it helped him from time to time but his shadows were too dark, too deep and they swallowed him up in the end.

It is said we are our own best friends. I know this is true. My brother never made friends with himself. I know my own father hated himself too as my mother hated herself. It took long hard years for me to make friends with myself, but at the age of 27 I was not my best friend. I would alternately like and hate me too. I did not want to know me too much as much as I wanted to change me into someone I would like so the war raged for years. I ended up calling the war off. That did not happen until I was older and probably wiser.

The Dalai Lama said that so many people he has met in the West hate themselves. He said he was astonished by this. I also met so many students as a teacher who did not trust themselves as writers and that is the first thing that Natalie Goldberg writes in her book to writers they must do and that is trust themselves. Trusting oneself and loving oneself is really the same thing. I know that was a hard lesson for me to learn and as a senior I am still learning it.

As a young person at the age of 27 years, I did not know it at all. I wish I did for I would have had a better life than I did. At that age, I had a rough life and it was made worse because I did it to myself. I gave myself a worse time than what was happening. Granted it was not pleasant but it would not have been so bad. It was good too as my children were born then. Their births and the births of my grandchildren were definitely the highlights of my life.

I am in a good time of my life now although even with some pending health issues I am much happier than I have ever been because I am not beating myself up. When I do get depressed as I was on Friday after my latest cat scan and parts of yesterday it was because I forgot to connect with my Spiritual Connection that I find very useful. I started to feel sorry for myself and look for solace outside in others. I have never found it in others but in my Spiritual Guardians. That is my karma. I also find it in meditation and that form is in my writing. I also know I need to live in the mindfulness of life.

One time in my teens, I felt utterly alone. I knew no one cared about me. My parents did not love me as they were too deep into their narcissistic needs to care and my friends were too involved in their needs, which eventually killed them not too many years later and I found myself on a lonely gray beach. I walked into the surf intending to not come out again. Then as I was going down a surfer that I had not seen pulled me up and dragged me to the beach. I thanked him and watched him go out again and surfed some more. I did not do that again. I thanked God for that nameless person. I made up my mind if no one loved me then I would make my life better. I asked for help in doing that. I believe I was given help.

Every time I have asked for help, I have been given it. I think all of us have that ability to ask the Divine for that help. All we have to do is ask. I don't believe it is any particular religion. It has happened on other occasions and it has worked each single time. I am not saying that the help I envision was what I got; but it was help and it worked every single time.

Sometimes, I think someone might read this blog and get something out of it. These blogs are the chapters in my life on how things have worked for me. I was physically and sexually abused by both of my parents. I survived that. I could not have done that without help. I got help all along the way because I asked for it. I was also taught the things I needed to learn on my Spiritual Path because I asked for that too. I also asked to win the lottery. I didn't win that. I have very little in my checking account. What I am saying is hold off from using that door that leads to death. Try something else. Ask for help from one's Spiritual Resources instead whatever they are for you and trust in your ability to find your way home.

Sunshine

I woke up late this morning or late for me. The sun was streaming into my bedroom window at 7 am. When I went to sleep last night I was thoroughly depressed. I had taken a cat scan yesterday and I am waiting for the results. I did not see how I could feel better. I woke up feeling better much to my surprise.

I always say or even write that it is a plus to wake up at all. Well, it is easy to say that when one does not have a real reason not to wake up. These days I have some health reasons and the big unknown sitting on the horizon. Still, I am not in any pain. I have been in this position before. I never get used to it. Still, I am not depressed this morning. The sunshine helps.

I am listening to a series of classical music from Rhapsody of different selections that are very nice. The series of selections are about seven hours long and are supposed to help you get through the day. I have not listened to them before. I have recently discovered the playlist central. I don't always search around the two music services I subscribe to as I am a person of habit. I find something I like and then stick to them. I like baroque music in the morning and different kinds in the afternoon but usually instrumental as I like my music in the background and not to be a distraction. I don't like easy listening as it reminds me of being in an elevator.

Last night, nothing would get me out of my depression, not even music. I watched a grade B movie that might have been a made for television film with Katherine Hepburn in it. It was probably one of the last she ever made. The people in the film with her were those I never heard of before but it was about an elderly woman with grown up children who were waiting for their mother to die so they could inherit her money and property. She decided to get married instead and they were upset with her as she married her doctor. He was an elderly man who was lonely too. There were echoes of my life except I am not rich although I feel it. I have everything I want except servants as she did. I looked it up and it was a television movie called "Mrs. Delafield Wants to Marry (1986)" Frankly, I am glad I don't. Even her neighbor got into it as he had retired with his wife and he did not want her to change either. It was the one bright spot in my life last night.

Glancing out my window, I think being alive is preferable than being dead. So many people I have known in the past are now under the sod. That is not odd or unique. We are all in that position. I just don't feel so different than when I did when I was nine years old. I look in the mirror and I have to say "what the hell happened?". There is this old lady looking back at me. Or I am talking to someone who says to me that they always had respect for the elderly and I am thinking "are they talking about me?" WHF?

Maybe that is why we all yearn for heaven or some place where things stay the same. Where my children don't grow up and get older than me. I was in the VA hospital yesterday and none of the doctors are middle aged let alone closer to my age. They are like me, retired or worse deceased. The doctor who operated on me in 1970 died ten years later. He was not that much older than me. I never told him "thank you".

I think some of us get so depressed because there is so little in life that we are in control of, have any knowledge about. We are taught that teachers have the answers, doctors can cure us, writers and professors are wise and religious leaders know all about god. Our leaders in congress don't give a damn about any of us and have as much education and knowledge as my five year old grandson although not as much heart otherwise they would not be doing what they are doing now. We run around sprouting hatred towards each other when the real person we hate is ourselves. No one really knows anything. We really have to find our own answers and that is hard.

Looking into the sunshine of this morning, that is what I needed to do. I needed to find meaning in my life and in today. I have no choice and we are all given resources for doing that. It is all inside each of us. It is so simple we forget. It is a matter of watching the leaves in the breezes, the squirrels playing in the trees which is what I am doing and listening to the crows cawing somewhere.It is sometimes called meditation. I am drinking a wonderful cup of coffee and drinking a glass of juice. Grocery Outlet had Naked Juice on sale for one dollar a piece and I never tasted them before. They are wonderful. It is the small things of life that come our way from time to time that make it all worth while.

New Rules

I am dealing with the Veterans Administration regarding possible cancer in my lungs. I need further tests to determine whether or not I have it. I moved to Portland, Oregon from Redding, California the first week of May, 2011. There has been problems with this move. One is the computers at the VA can't keep my new address in their system. That is minor in comparison with the possible cancer.

When I was a kid, my mother let me do whatever I wanted to do as long as I was home for dinner. She had this old cow bell she would ring at dinner time and my brother and sister would have to come home as dinner was ready and my father was home and wanted to eat. Every so often I would go to Grants Pass, Oregon to visit my aunt who was my mother's sister. The first time I stayed for a full year, I left in the morning as usual and did not come home until dinner. I was nine years old and my Aunt Sonia was livid with rage and beat me with a strap that raised welts all over me. I was astonished. When did the rules change?

When my doctor called and told me that I had failed the first cat scan and that I would be taking more blood work and another cat scan she told me that someone would call me about the times. I sat around waited for the call. Then I got a call from a dietitian regarding another matter and I asked her what I should do about not getting a call. She looked into the computer and said that the cat scan was ordered as well as the blood work. She said I was supposed to be on a fast before the blood work. I went to the hospital and took the blood tests. I went to the cat scan place and they said that no one calls me, I am supposed to call them. That is the way it is supposed to be done at the Portland Hospital. I called and called and left messages but no one called back. I already had a call from some doctor and I answered back and left messages and no one called back.

I went to a volunteer at the hospital this morning and told him about what was happening. What is the proper procedure since I did not know the rules here. He sent me to the patient advocate. Well, I got through to the cat scan people and will be taking it tomorrow. The person called and said she was puzzled why they said I had to wait to take the liquid as it is not required for a lung scan.

When you are dealing with a large bureaucracy such as the Veterans Administration, one expects problems; however I am looking at possible lung cancer. I was exposed to Agent Orange which makes me very vulnerable to cancer and I have had it several times. The VA has saved my life more than a few times. I am scared and don't want to wait until the VA gets its act straightened out. Usually, when cancer might be around the VA acts very quickly which it did at first. I just did not know the rules of the Portland VA Hospital. I did not even consider that it may be different. That was my error. I should have gone down to the hospital earlier and asked.

When I was in the military or working for state or federal governments, I was always told not to assume. I was well treated at the VA in Redding. I knew the rules and the people who worked there. I was a Veterans Rep. in Redding for over ten years before I retired. That was a mistake. Never assume anything. In this case, it could have cost me my life. In this case, it didn't and I will find out more about what is happening in my body.

Obituaries

I admit I read obituaries. I have been reading them for years. I don't hope to see friends listed, but I admit I hope to see people there I don't like. Sometimes, I do. It means I don't have to try and avoid someone. He or she is no longer around to make my life miserable. Of course, they don't make my life unhappy; I let them. Still, it is nice not to worry whether or not someone is going to be around or not.

There used to be a guy at a bookstore I went to who would stalk me and even follow me. Since I was not living alone I did not worry. Still, it bothered me sitting in the cafe in the bookstore and his staring at me. I would sit in the corner and take my radio and ear phones. At first, I thought he was looking for a chance for some face time, so I started a conversation. Not so, he was mean and bitter. He did the same act with many people and I saw many women who would sit not far from him and wonder what he was up to. He even did it with men. Then I saw his name in the obituaries. I could have sang all day.

Of course, there are times when friends' names show up. That is sad. No wonder they did not pick up their phones or call. Sometimes it was unexpected and sometimes they had gone into a convalescent home without telling anyone. All of us who were friends were left wondering what happened to them. Then the orbit announcing their death appeared. That was sad.

I am getting older and we leave estates and relatives sometimes have funerals and sometimes to save money don't have them.The relatives who often don't have funerals are general those who were not close. They leave those little naked announcements that cost nothing and one never knows for sure if it is them or not. One woman who works the phones at a funeral home says she often gets calls from people who ask if the newly deceased worked at this place or lived at a certain street or came from a certain state.

A friend of mine says he reads the death notices to see if he died. That is a joke but I actually know someone who was declared dead and he was very much alive. He had a devil of a time getting his Social Security checks going and even lost his car which he had to sell to pay some bills during the process. He had a common name and someone else with the same name had died in the same city as he did. You would think the Social Security Administration would check their Social Security numbers. I understand this is not an uncommon problem.

Last year I was in Korea and left my house in my younger adult son's hands and the contents got stripped by my ex-husband and another son. I was shocked when I got back. I told my adult children that I did not die but was gone only one year and left money to pay the house payments and taxes. I lived on the money I made in Korea. My son paid the utilities. So much was missing that I could not live there anymore and just left since my son said he would pay the house payments. I am glad. I did not feel safe there anymore. I am much happier here even if I don't know the outcome of my current health issues, I would rather face them here than in Redding which seems a darker place there anyhow.

I look at the dates of the beginnings of people's lives in those notices and see most of them creeping up towards my own. Of course, plenty of people die early. Children die and others who are younger than me die for a variety of reasons; but now I don't fear the idea of death as much as I used to although I would rather not die at this time. When I used to visit older relatives I would often run into people who would wish for death in the homes my relatives were in. I am hoping that when it is time for me to go I would be wanting it, desire it and wishing for it so that when the Grim Reaper comes it would be a welcomed guest instead of a dreaded presence. Who knows? Most of us don't know the end. I happen to believe we all were dead before so it shouldn't be such a big deal to be dead again.

Now, back to the obituaries. I will never read my own unless it is a big mistake as what happened to Mark Twain or Ernest Hemingway when their deaths were prematurely announced. They had to make announcements to the press that they were very much alive. I would hate to go to the Social Security Administration and try and get my checks started again. I would think that would be a lot harder than a press release.

Deep in Summer

Everyday, I put a different design on my Firefox homepage and then the message of good morning and date on my Facebook Page and Twitter. It occurred to me that it is deep in summer. One would never know it here in Portland for it is overcast and I have one window cracked open. I love my new city, but it is not overly hot here. I have written here that none of the lower apartments have air conditioners, and I have lived in places for the last forty years or so that need air conditioning including Korea.

When I worked for the state of California, it was proper procedure for the state to dismiss its workers when the air conditioning failed in Redding as it did on several occasions. When I moved into this apartment, it seemed scary that there was no air conditioning at all. Here it is in July and I have not needed it. There were nights when I was cold and just added a blanket because turning on the heat seemed obscene.

I know there is severe heat going on in parts of the country and there are cooling centers being opened in such places such as Texas. Summer has always been my favorite time of the year because it always was a time of freedom. One could go anywhere without worrying about the weather. I still love summer and enjoy looking out my window at the trees and flowers that are in abundance here in the Northwest. It does not seem so free in other places now. People have to take shelter from the heat.

When I was a youngster, I loved summer because I could read what I wanted and hide out in the empty schools and trees. Sometimes, I would babysit and then take the bus to parks such as Balboa Park which was for me heaven on earth. In those days,all of the museums were free and I could wander through them looking at the exhibits. The San Diego Zoo was free on Sundays and I love to go there and look at the animals. All of that have changed. I don't know what I would have done if I was a kid growing up now. At least the books in the libraries are still free to check out. It was summer that I read the most. I was too poor to have a television, thank heavens. I could not afford to go to the movies unless someone paid my way or I worked in them. I still think fondly of summer and books.

Recently, I read that the bookstore, Borders, is liquidating its books and closing for good. I never lived anywhere near a Borders but it saddens me. I remember when Barnes and Noble opened its doors in Redding. I have never waited impatiently for a store to open as I did that one. The only bookstore in Redding would not order books that I wanted and I had to order on line from Amazon when it became possible. I became a steady customer. Here in Portland, I shop at Powells all of the time. I am also a library user. I rarely used the library in Redding.

I don't watch regular television except the news on PBS and cable. I have a subscription to the newspaper here in Portland and I like it very much. It is full of local news. I have plenty of things to do here.

Reality has been hitting me more clearly of late. I find that I am planning my time a bit more than usual. For instance, I am going out to get some papers signed for my oldest son and get some milk and coffee. I think I will hit the library as well. All of it can be done within a short distance from my place.

I finally got my apartment exactly the way I wanted it and I did not need to get a truck to transport furniture. I bought smaller chairs for the living room than the overstuffed ones that I thought I needed and put it in my Honda. I bought the last one at Value Village yesterday as I had a coupon. The chair had paint on it which I was able to take off with polish remover I happened to have. It looked much better than I expected. I don't need to go to the second hand stores anymore. I am good now.

I really enjoyed seeing my grandchildren this last weekend although it took a lot to drive down and back. I won't be doing that too often. With gas prices, it is too expensive anyhow. When I was in Redding, I could feel that it was not my home anymore. It was good to get back home again. I enjoyed the trip back home better than on the way down as there was more road rage on Friday than on Sunday. There was more police cars on the road on Sunday. I was glad of that.

I took my grandchildren to see the last movie of the Harry Potter series and paid extra for the 3D effect. I really enjoyed it. That seemed special somehow as I started to read the books there in Redding and saw the movies there too. I thought it was the best movie of them all. I thought the books were always the better of the movies except the last movie. I would be hard pressed to say whether the book or the film was the best. I am also glad they chose Daniel Ratcliff as the actor to play Harry Potter because he consistently did an outstanding job and carried the films to the end. Some kid actors lose some ability in growing up, but he did not. He got better.

Lastly, to me if there was a place like heaven, it would look like Portland with all of the trees and flowers but there would be a blue sky and sunshine. It would always be summer or that is my version anyhow. Maybe that would be the time we would all enjoy being with each other and truly listen to what each of us would have to say. I don't know. I could be around my grandchildren as much as I would like without having to have my home vandalized by anyone. I think my place looks pretty close to heaven now. I hope none of you reading this think I am being so corny. Even with all of my problems, I feel pretty good right now.

New Rules of Life

This past weekend, I went to see my grandchildren in Redding. It was wonderful. I took a book with me that I had read long ago and had in my library that was stripped from my house last year by my ex-husband. So, I bought it again here in Portland. It was "Wild Mind: Living the Writer's Life" by Natalie Goldberg (Bantam: 1990).

Goldburg said in her first sentence of this book: "Life is not orderly." Well I understand that especially now. I am a writer, not a great publisher writer, but I writer none the less. In this I share many of the things Goldburg does and expresses in her book; but her book is more than a book about writing. It is a book about the Zen way of looking at life. As she wrote at the beginning of this book, life is not orderly and Zen can't be either. There is a saying that if you want to make God(s) laugh, tell him (or her) of your plans.

At the beginning of every workshop that this author does, she has a set of writing practices. I have heard from other writers that I know that they are more than rules of writing. Many people consider them the rules of life because the bottom line of all life and of these rules is learning to trust your own mind, yourself. Goldburg, herself, says that these rules can be applied to anything. I am making them my rules for life.

I got a shock recently and about the possibility that it may be more limited than I thought it was. I am re-thinking a lot of things.

1. KEEP YOUR HAND MOVING.

If I am going to write for ten minutes or for an hour, I am going to write regardless of what is going on and not stop even if the phone rings or the desire for a cup of coffee hits me. Goldburg states there is a creator and an editor and they are two different people. Write what you want to write and the Hell with what anyone else thinks. If you keep your creative hand moving, your editing hand can't keep up with it. Editing is a good thing. It is shaping and making sure your writing says what you want it to say; but sometimes you first have to write down what you mean and ignore everything else that tries to stop your hand moving.

2. LOSE CONTROL

Say and write what you want to say. Everyone needs to have a place where they can do that. Don't worry if it is correct, polite, appropriate or not. If you don't write, go out to a place where you can say things just they way you want to say and not worry who will hear you. If you are mad at someone, give yourself permission to be mad and say what is on your mind to a lake or a canyon. In writing I want to say I am mad at this person or that and then I might tear it up or keep it in my journal. Everyone needs a safe place to let off steam but not to hurt someone, but in a safe and secure area.

3. BE SPECIFIC.

If I am writing about a car, what kind of car. If I am telling someone about a tree, what kind of tree. Too often my writing is general. Too often my words to people are general, too general. This weekend I went out of town to visit my grandchildren. I went to Redding to visit my three youngest grandchildren and we went shopping and saw the last Harry Potter film in 3-D. It was wonderful. My youngest grandson missed me so much he held my hand and would not get out of the car when it was time to leave.

4. DON'T THINK

When writing, sometimes it is best to put down the first thoughts. The first thoughts that flash in our mind is often the more honest ones that we are thinking about. When drawing or painting, don't think about it just draw. When biking, don't think about the bike just bike. When walking, just think about walking, just walk. When living, don't think about living just live. It 's going to happen anyhow.

5. DON'T WORRY ABOUT PUNCTUATION, SPELLING, GRAMMAR.

When I am writing, I try not to worry about the rules of writing. Nothing will stop the flow faster than worrying about stopping to check the spelling and so forth. That goes for everything else. Life is for living and not worrying about the rules. Some people know the definition of Buddhist terms and I don't. I don't think it is important. I am a Buddhist and if I get it wrong, I don't think it matters one bit.

6. YOU ARE FREE TO WRITE THE WORST JUNK IN AMERICA (AND THE WORLD)

If you worry about getting things right, you will not only not even try but not enjoy whatever you are trying to do. The thing to do is enjoy yourself. I write this now, but I have to remind myself all of the time whenever I am trying to do something. Just have a good time doing what ever you are trying to do.

7. GO FOR THE JUGULAR

If something scary comes up in writing or in your life, go for it. That is where the energy is. When it is time to remember your life, you won't remember the safe times but when it was the roughest. If I am writing something that is scaring me, I will get more out of it if I continue. I have done that and never regretted it.

During these times when I am facing the scary times, I am going to try and remember the above rules and stay mindful about my life. The worst time is when I am lying in the dark at night and the unknown comes up out of the dark like the monsters used to creep up from beneath my bed. I am going to try and remember the above rules and face it.

Wrong Size of Sheets

Since I have moved to Portland, Oregon, I have had to depend on just a few belongings and what fitted on the back of a pickup truck. It wasn't very much. I had a large apartment and my son went home with his truck. I have a small compact car. I had to depend on second hand stores which luckily are great here in Portland. I have more than enough to live on, but I had to buy everything from scratch, more or less.

One of the things I needed to buy was sheets for my bed. I had one set and no washer or dryer in my apartment. At Value Village second hand store, they have a color tag that is 50 percent off each day they are open. To stretch my dollar I use that option more than I use the 25 percent off for seniors on Wednesday. I bought a set of sheets for my bed that were brand new that were gold. To be honest, the color was beautiful and the quality was exceptionally nice, much nicer than I usually can buy brand new. Then I tried them on at home after I washed them. Oh oh. They were the wrong size. That is why some store gave the sheets to Value Village. I tried to fit them on my bed and the sheets would not stay put.

Since finding out that I may not be staying in this life for long, I stopped trying to make this purchase for three bucks and just tossed them. It wasn't worth it. I was trying so hard to make things work. I had to ask myself if it was really worth it and it wasn't.

I am beginning to ask myself more in earnest what is important and what isn't. I went to a ,murder mystery club last night. This was the second time. I really like the people in it but the employee from the book store who runs it does not like me very much. I caught onto that last time and it did bother me. This time, I didn't really care. I don't really know her at all and have no idea why she dislikes me. It isn't important to me. The book group is important to me and I will continue. We have never exchanged names and so I have total freedom and I like that. I think the members are wonderful judges of the books we have read so far. If the employee has a problem with me, it does not take away from my pleasure of the group.

Hmm. I seemed to have changed a bit. For the better I think. I like that. I received a post card from the hospital for a phone consult next week. I still have a chance, that I don't have anything serious. I have my fingers crossed. Already, I can see changes in my life though.

My Six Regrets

Yesterday, I wrote about how an hospice nurse saw her end of life patients expressed their regrets and summed them up. This morning, I put down how things have suddenly changed in my life and I may be facing this end of life sooner than I had expected. I really don't know for sure as all of the tests have not been given, but the possibility exists. I am now looking at this and thinking what my regrets would be at this point in my life. These are my six regrets:

1. I came to Portland to try and fly in some of my dreams that I have held dear all of my life. Although I have been trying here and there, I have not been trying giving it my full attention. I have been doing other things. I regret this, deeply. If I am going to be reaching the end of my trip I will never know if I would have succeeded or not. I still put it off and for that I am for sorry.

2. I have six grandchildren and I would love to see how they turn out as adults. One, the oldest is already an adult and he has turned out well. I would regret not knowing how the others turned out and not being there to be a supporter of who they are and accepting them and loving them fully for that.

3. I want to finally lose my weight fully and be a nice thin senior citizen. I have been over-weight all of my life for the most part and I regret I will never be anything else but just an overweight person. I want to be thin and to be be able to buy clothes in my size in any style I want.

4. I want to be able to walk and hike without pain, if it is possible, and to be seen as a normal person walking on the trail. This might be related to the above regret. I want to blend in with the rest of the population instead of standing out as I do now.

5. I want to reach a part in my journals that I finally have total self-acceptance and feel great about everything I do. I want to feel a deep sense of compassion about my fellow human beings. I am closer than I ever was, but I have suffered grief and pain from experiences and that I am recovering from. I have not completed it yet but I am close. I would regret that I have not completed my goal.

6. I would like to travel more and see some more places such as Canada and Scotland before I die. I regret that I will never see Vancouver, Canada or Spain and other places such as Sicily. I want to see them as a thin person. I am tired of being treated with hostility and anger just because I am overweight. Traveling would be so much easier if I was like everyone else.

Well, it remains to be seen if I am given another chance to complete what I want to do. I have my fingers crossed. If not, well I had a grand time of it anyhow.

Everything Changes

The Buddha when asked to condense his philosophy said that it would easily fit into the sentence: everything changes. Being a brave soul or one who likes to pretend I am one I put that as one of my favorite quotes or at least until something happens in my life that changes my entire life. Then I don't like it one bit. I failed my CT scan at the Veterans' Administration Hospital. Oh shit.

It is only the first of steps to determine what is happening in my body that is supposed to be my best friend. We all know that story. We have all had experiences in which our body does things each of us would rather it didn't. I have had cancer over the years on numerous occasions starting in 1970. I don't know the exact cause. I will probably never know, but I have beaten it in the past and I am hopeful I will if I have it again beat it again. I don't know for sure. Several years ago, I beat ovarian cancer and that is a big one for women. That is when I found out how dangerous that disease is for women. Up to then I had no idea. Now, it is my lungs. I don't ever smoke but I have smoked passively in the past although I have tried not to.

I look out the window of my new apartment and the joy that I have been feeling is suddenly muted. I finally got my apartment the way I wanted it and now this. I read the news everyday. I read of the the bad turn of events that happen to other people without much reaction at times and now it is looking back at me. Of course, it really doesn't make any difference whether I feel as if I connect to the people with bad luck or not; but it does make some connect to me now. I might be one of those people now. Suddenly, the stories glare back from the newspaper and I realize that I have been isolating myself.

I have made some changes in my life. I have dropped one art class because I signed up for too much. One of my grandsons was coming to visit me this month and I had to ask him not to come because if I have to have surgery he would be alone. That would not be good. All of my well laid plans are now up in the air so to speak. Everything changes. I am suddenly not so brave. I would rather that things not change, but they have.

Top Regrets of Dying People

There is a list of five regrets that Bronnie Ware sums up out of her experience as a hospice nurse that is on the Internet (She has a Facebook Page). They are as follows:

1. I wish I'd had the courage to live a life true to myself, not the life others expected of me.

2. I wish I didn't work so hard.

3. I wish I had the courage to express my feelings.

4. I wish I had kept in touch with my friends.

5. I wish I had let myself be happier.

This list changed my life. Each of them were from many people in which Ware was there for their last moments. I had heard from people who told me about relatives who were on their death beds and had said some of the same things but not so well as Ware did above. It is far more detailed in the above web address. She is working on the book and there are different web sites based on "Five Regrets" on the Internet. I put it on my Facebook and Twitter.

Ware said the first one was by far the most common of all of the regrets. It is the one that I am dealing with right now. It is also the hardest to do. Being who one really is in this life is not easy and it is easy to see why people often don't do it. It also takes courage and audacity. People, our friends and relatives, don't want to see us change even if it is attempts to be who we really are. Strangers don't want to see strangers be authentic so it would be very difficult for them to see these attempts in their loved ones. Friendships and even relatives relationships have been severed because of this and yet this is the number one regret of dying people.

I have had friends who came out of the closet, so to speak, in their senior years and disclosed their true sexual orientation even when they are grandparents and lose everything. Some families just go along with it while others cut all ties with the individual. My friend Ted has never regretted coming out with his status as a gay man. He said it was hard living a life that was a sham with so many lies and many of them were to himself. Even now, people he has known for a long time will throw them up to him. He feels better he does not have to lie anymore but sad that he did for so long.

Both Ted and I pledged the other day to be honest. In a sense, it is hard to do that and already I have run into trouble but I don't regret it. I feel lighter at the end of the day. I can imagine living a lie full of deceits so that one's life is what everyone expects it to be and then on the death bed wanting to live just one moment the way one wanted instead of the way everyone else wanted especially when those people died a long time before you did, namely one's parents.

I had a friend who married right out of high school because that was expected but she never loved her husband. He was a good man and he died a few years ago and she missed him for a while but felt empty because she never did the things she wanted to do when she was younger because she did what her parents wanted her to. She loves her children and grandchildren but wishes for something she can't identify, an empty feeling in her chest. Her parents are long gone and her life's circumstances are comfortable. She finds surrounding herself with things that many people can't buy and traveling to places many can't afford to go just to make herself feel better. I suspect she will be one of the ones on her death bed who will regret that she never lived her life the way she wanted to because in a sense she is still living the life her parents expected.

Looking down that list, there are other things that I have done that I wish I had not done. I have let friends go. Once when I tried to reconnect with one very dear friend I found out she had passed away. I was grief stricken for awhile because I did not say goodbye. I don't know what happened to so many people I knew over the years. I kept running away from bad memories forgetting that there were good ones in there too. Life is so damn short.

Everyone assumes that we all want to be happy and do what we can to be as happy as we can. It's not true. We get these fixations that we don't deserve happiness and joy. It is all in our gasp. Yesterday at the Loaves and Fishes where I have two art classes, this senior citizen told me to move aside and that I was in his way. He was walking as I was and not much older than I was. There are many seniors there that grumble about this or that. I wrote about this one woman who complained that I wanted to be gluten free there and that was just too much for that organization. Yet, when I said hello to her downtown because I thought I recognized her she was impressed that I would be friendly. Instead of being irritable as she usually is, she was very friendly. I always am friendly with anyone. It takes so little to be friendly. I don't remember people so I smile at everyone. Many people growl back. I don't take it personally. It takes more to be irritable than to be friendly. The grouchy man did not make himself feel better, not at all.

Music especially good classical music makes me very happy. When I was in Korea, I thought I would die for some J.S. Bach or any classical music. When I heard it for the first time on a bad sounding radio, I thought it was sublime. The woman who was there thought I was mad because it had such bad sound. She was so unhappy and did things to make herself so unhappy.

Many of us do so many things that make us unhappy as that woman did such as lying and taking things that did not belong to her. Of course, she will continue to be unhappy. I had a supervisor who was very mean to those he supervised. He could not sleep at night because of bad dreams. He hated people who were happy and made fun of them. One woman who volunteered at the mission to feed the homeless worked there. He sneered at her and called her Mother Teresa. There are sociopaths and psychopaths in the world who do not feel badly when they do horrible things to people, but I don't think the five regrets pertain to them. They don't regret anything and have little or no feelings.

We all do things that make sure we are less happy in our lives. We lie on our income taxes and gossip about our neighbors and cut someone off in traffic. These are the things that prevent us from being happy although at the time it does not seem that way. What can explain a whole nation such as Germany in the early part of the 20th century doing what they did to their own citizens or what some in the Middle East are doing now? On their death beds, there will be some heavy sighs.

We are all human beings. We all make mistakes. The above list gives us a second chance to make some changes so that when we are on our death beds and we are taking the one way train trip to the cemetery it won't be such a sad one after all. Make no mistake, we all have to take it. We owe a great deal of gratitude to Ware for compiling it.