Monday, October 28, 2013


Today is hard, my heart is broken, and I am not doing OK

I had a friend, a very dear friend.  She made me laugh; she inspired me; she taught me how to look for joy.  She would tell me she was scared, she thought she was not strong, but I did not know anyone more courageous than her.  Life knocked her down and she experienced much loss and pain, but she kept on going because her heart was full of love and she needed to share it with others.

After a twenty year battle with lymphoma, and many remissions, Anne left us on Sunday.  She touched so many people and it can be said that to know Anne was to love her.  I last spoke to her on Wednesday and her voice was strong, which always gave me hope, even though I knew that time was getting shorter. I expected the phone call would come, but I always hoped for a miracle.  The miracle, though, had already happened.  In her life she had made bad days good, made the hardest heart smile, and innocence real.

Anne was a beautiful person in all ways.

Most of us live lives that may seem unimportant on the world stage. We don't think great thoughts, make great discoveries or invent the next big thing.  We live quietly, suffer annoyances, bare up under pressure, and relish the good times we get.  The years pile up and sometimes the days might be more about enduring than enjoying. Too many of us cloud our lives with negativity but we all have a choice on how we color each of our days. My friend, Anne, was always a bright yellow light, birthdays were always happy birthdays, and she was grateful for each moment of her life.  She made a difference, her thoughts were sweet and kind, and good times with her were the best.  They say it is not the years in your life that count, but the life in your years.  I say it is also measured by those whose lives you touch and I, and those who knew Anne, were touched by an angel.

Wednesday, October 23, 2013

I'm Not Your Honey

Too many little annoyances lately, but I am doing OK.

When my mom got very ill and was in the hospital twelve years ago, I noticed that all the nurses and staff called her "honey".  As sick as she was and as grateful she was for the care she received, being called by that term would arouse her ire.  She was a strong, intelligent woman in a vulnerable state and she thought it demeaning that strangers would address her in that way.  She was still a person and was nobody's honey.  My dad always called her "dear" because she was that to him, but sweet and gooey she was not.

Last weekend we went to the Movie Tavern to see Tom Hanks' newest movie, Captain Phillips (very good).  The waitress, a very chatty individual who seemed to want to tell all her customers her life story ( she was 41, had a 20 year old daughter who was driving her crazy, blah, blah, blah),  asked my husband what he would like to eat and drink.  After putting his order into her little computer, she turned to me and said, "And what can I get you, HONEY.  Holy Moley, I have now been put into the fragile, feeble, old chrone category by a twit.  I thought I had a few more years left before I hit my "doting" stage in life.  I wanted to scream at her, "I am still vital, I contribute, I still have a brain, I know what is going on, and I use apps.  But I didn't and remained the polite person I am.

She called me "honey" three times that evening. Her tip was reduced by 3%.  In the end, old ladies rule.