HAPPY EASTER

I love Easter. It's the time where one story ends...and mine begins.

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My way of 'grief management'...

If anyone wonders why I keep talking about my 'deceased' wife the way I do...then it's the way I handle my 'loss' and it makes ME feel better. I reach for every thought that makes it possible. Syl used to say that 'you have to cry it out'. Well...I do that too. Sometimes I'm like a blubbering idiot when I think of not being able to 'hold' her in my arms and comfort her, to 'see' her smile, to 'hear' her laugh. That's when she comforts me and tells me that she's alright. LOVE is not about 'the physical'. It makes me FEEL better to celebrate her life rather than mourn her death. It turns each day into something special. Good mourning? I don't think that 'animal' exists. But a good morning/mourning is the way I begin each day. I don't know when the tears will come...but I reach for the 'thought' that FEELS better. I talk about all the things I've learned from her, about the people that are ...
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What happens to me when there is no plan B?...

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     This is too funny for words.  But I'm gonna use words to show you what I mean about...let it happen the way it's supposed to.        First, the delivery man left my box (that contained my 'needs to be put together' microwave cart) at the FRONT door.  I tracked that eagerly awaited package like it was a shipment of gold.  And for clarification, my address clearly states...1st floor REAR.  The handwritten note that is on my front door for all to see says, "ALL deliveries to be made in Rear...Thanks".  Grrrrr.   The reason?  I'm a 77 yr. young, man that doesn't like stairs so has NEVER gotten in the habit of using the front door.  The advantage of the back door?  I live on a hill and the enclosed back porch only has 1 step.  And to make matters worse, there wasn't even a knock on the door to let me know that it was there!  Double Grrrrr.  lol      It's a good thing that I...
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Do I believe in miracles...?

My first introduction to miracles came to me from my parents. They told me about the happenings on January 13th, 1938. My 20 yr. old mother went into labor with me and my dad rushed her to University Hospital in Cleveland. She had a rough time of it. The Dr. told her there was a serious problem and I would have to be delivered Cesarean section. Also, because of the nature of the problem a choice had to be made. He could save my mom's life...or mine, and even then there were no guarantees. Stella (that's my mom's name) made a choice. She told the doctor to save me. She said she'd already experienced life and wanted me to have the same chance. Well...the delivery was made. I came squalling into this world at 1:38 AM on January 14th, and two weeks later than anticipated. The brat (that's me) survived...but the miracle was that my mom lived until 1980. Hmmm. I guess if I didn't make it, I wouldn't be writing this. Anyhow. From then on my life has been series of...
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