IAN'S JOTTINGS -- TONE DEAF -- JAN. 6 -- SCOTUS

UPDATE:   United States Select House Committee on January 6th .......

                           Hearing Tuesday June 28th  1 p.m. ET (10 a.m. PT)

There are a couple new-to-me blogs of interest I've discovered which you may appreciate, too.  Coincidentally, both of these gentlemen bloggers live across the pond from the U.S.  Take a dip, you may enjoy reading them as much as I have.

The first blog that came to my attention is written by a man with an interesting blogosphere history I learned about in a recent comment in case you missed reading it.  Ian Bertram has started a new blog, "Ian's Jottings", featuring an intriguing variety of topics.  You can visit Ian's blog HERE. 

Ian's no stranger to the blogosphere since Ronni Bennett at "Time Goes By" (TGB) first introduced his "Panchromatica" blog years ago.   Some of what she wrote included:

"He's a serious man with passion for world peace and human rights, but he also has a wicked sense of the absurd as demonstrated by ...  this link I took from his site."

You can read what Ronni wrote May 4, 2004 HERE.  (note: some links there may no longer be active.)  She had been visiting Ian's site before starting her blog.  Ian had discovered Ronni's early blogging efforts and they both regularly posted photos on "fotolog".  

When Ronni concluded she needed to give up her beloved longtime Greenwich Village brownstone apartment on Bleecker Street making her first move to Portland, Maine, Ian responded to her request to be a TGB guest blogger during her moving days.   

I've visited the new blog, "Ian's Jottings", and suggest you read his  June 16th "welcome" post  to gain information about his other blogs, art site, intended "jottings".  Based on his writing I've read,  I look forward to a variety of appealing subjects including his memoir, music featuring talented artists and much more.  The alternate history topic such as "Dunkirk" is entertainingly thought provoking as is considering his unusual idea that is revealed in "Green Earth", given our world today.

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The second blog, "Tone Deaf",  I discovered later which I sought after reading Roderick Robinson's comment on Sabine's blog "Interim Arrangements".  When I visited Roderick's blog I learned he had written several books.  I was fascinated when I read what he wrote about in one of his books, Opening Bars:  "Everyone has a voice so why not sing -- but at eighty?"  That's right, he became a singer at the ripe age of 80 years.

Exploring some of Roderick's blog writings I discovered he dabbles a bit in political commentary occasionally enhanced with a bit of poetry, has had a lifelong interest in aviation, is adapting to some significant medical issues and most recently has explored writing about everyday happiness.   He asks a pertinent question about the life he's lived that we all might ask about our own life you can read HERE.

Roderick's humor emerges with a light-hearted touch in his writings to also blend into one blog discussion about bellybuttons.   Subsequently, there's a description of perfection and then there is the account of his being insulted.

His novels are enticing especially since I note one is set in Arizona.  His appealing self-assessment:  "In my novels all women are heroines."  Hm-m-m!

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SUMMERTIME

Norah Jones with pianist Marian McPartland.  Tanglewood Jazz Festival 8/30/2003

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United States Select House Committee on January 6th -- more hearings in July

"Donald Trump and his supporters are a clear and present danger to democracy."  

      Preserve our constitutional capitalistic democratic republic when you vote.

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SCOTUS recent warped political interpretations of our constitution defy common sense with serious ramifications:

Separation of church and state is now compromised based on a recent case ruling.

Regulations in numerous states to restrict gun proliferation have been invalidated per a ruling.

Women's rights retracted including making decisions affecting the health of her own body.                             (Women no longer equal with men who are permitted to  make health decisions about their body.)  

LIFE-DEATH -- ACTIONS-PERCEPTIONS

Through my youthful years between the plants, animals and people in my life I absorbed the reality for each that existence was a continuum of living for varying spans of time evolving ultimately into death.  This lifelong awareness of life/death as a given relationship has spared me some of the death angst expressed by others. 

At the point of dying the life force can be explained as changing into some other form of energy, but we humans haven’t really deciphered those specifics yet.   Science and religion each offer their perspectives while for some the two are plausibly integrated.    I’m reminded of this life continuum when events on both ends of the spectrum enter into my daily awareness with both extremes quite prominent presently, birth then death when a phone call conveys another’s departure from this earth.     

The advent of spring accentuates birth and rebirth, bringing much change here in Southern California with the abundance of rain we’ve received after our drought years.   Greenery and colorful flowers including our California poppy cover previously drab deserts and mountainsides, some that had been blackened from fire.   The poppy’s brilliance can be seen from creme, white to pink, yellow, orange, red and deep plum blooms. 

The mixed poppy seed package I planted has produced only a delicate crème and lemony yellow, plus bright orange blooms that have spread like a blanket covering my parkway – the area between the sidewalk and street that had been filled with bark to replace the water-thirsty grass.  I’ve read the California poppy contains chemicals that might cause relaxation and sleepiness, is also sometimes mixed with other herbs for medical treatments.         

New life in my community emerges again as a relatively new neighbor awaits the birth of their first newborn.  I also look forward to the next stage in our Big Bear Mountain Bald Eagle couple’s story awaiting the hatching of their two eggs.   Refer in the archives to my two immediately previous blog posts for the timeline from fertilization, to egg laying.

The two eggs are expected to hatch about April 10^th – imminent this week! 

You can check for the latest developments at the Big Bear live camera focused on the nest 24/7:

  https://www.youtube.com/watch?v=5b2dUgK6VV4

My continued interest having been captured by these eagles, I discovered a few other facts I hadn’t known before.    I always knew the Bald Eagle was depicted as representing strength and officially our nation, but I didn’t know much else about the bird.   Incidentally, the founding fathers in the process of debating the birds selection had also considered the turkey which has since been given a unique characterization of its own – not exactly a bird visualized as soaring majestically over our country.   

Seems that maybe much like each of us and our country, we may not be quite like how we believe ourselves to be, or may represent ourselves, whether or not knowingly or intentionally.   I don’t know that the Bald Eagle has misrepresented itself to us, but we have projected on to the bird how we prefer to perceive it.  I think that happens with what we do with people in our lives sometimes, too. 

We can certainly say very different perceptions about the country’s leader prevail among our nation’s people, for example.   But questions people of any persuasion might want to consider:

 – has our leader misrepresented himself ?

 – have we projected on to him how we prefer to perceive him rather than recognizing the  person he is ?

Take the Bald Eagle we have characterized in such a way that we hold it in high esteem for example. But some have described the bird as being rather dirty, given to being lazy and attracted to landfill sites, carrion, or other less desirable foodstuffs and possibly capable of spreading disease by dropping trash in suburbs such as in Seattle, Washington as described recently in the New York Times.

Also, as I’ve already noted in my previous post with sound links, that the eagles voice has been judged to be weak, so another bird’s sound believed to sound fiercer is dubbed into movies and TV.

I read just briefly about some other eagle pairs who in the past have really botched their family responsibilities.   One instance, instead of alternating egg-sitting the parents-to-be would both be off the nest simultaneously.  The result was on more than one occasion another bird type, a raven, took an egg.   Later, the parents apparently not having learned the lesson were both off the nest again and another creature was able to take their remaining egg.   Were they inexperienced parents,  did they not care, or couldn't they figure out what happened?   Then there was the eagle pair where the male just didn’t return to his mate one day.   Did he simply abandon her or did he meet with some tragedy?  

Now that I’ve learned some of these shortcomings, I laud this Big Bear Bald Eagle pair as they seem to be ideal parents-to-be so far.   We do know Jackie laid only one egg last year that successfully hatched, but later the eaglet died.  Those monitoring the nest think she has returned again this year, but with a different mate they named Shadow.  We could only speculate as to what happened to the previous mate. 

Anytime I’ve ever looked in on the nest after the two eggs were laid, one or the other eagle has been covering the incubating eggs in some pretty cold sometimes wet, snowy, or windy weather through the stormy nights.  We're due still for some weather and temperature variations with periods of increased heat.

So, I await the eggs hatching with this projected date “about April 10^th “.  The second egg was laid three days after the first so there may be some variance in eaglet arrival times.   Expect I’ll want to keep tabs on the eaglets until they actually leave the nest. 

I don’t project on to these Bald Eagles any greatness other than just what they are demonstrating.    I think my perception of this pair is that they are competent, reliable parents based on their actions to date. 

That really is what we have to rely on since actions most clearly define them just as is true among human beings.   We would be wise to consider actual actions as we form our perceptions of others including those with whom we make friends and those we choose as desirable nation leaders.

RECAP -- LOSS SYMBOLS -- REMEMBERING

RECAP

I skipped a week writing here as some may have noticed.  I simply wasn’t in the mood to write though numerous topics crossed my mind to expound on during that time.  

     The government, our leader and political shenanigans are beyond commentary here, falling into an almost surreal dimension.   There do now seem to be a few courageous adult statespersons among those we pay to govern for the best interest of ordinary citizens who are actually attempting to do so.  Time will tell.      

     The Super Bowl I previously wrote about continued to have decreased television viewership  according to the Nielsen rating service -- signifying what -- I’m not sure -- if anything -- for the popularity of professional football.   

      Meanwhile, the white-capped mountains behind my home appear to have been dusted by a  celestial sifter covering them with snow to an extensive degree I’ve rarely seen here. At our lower elevation we’ve been receiving one rainstorm after another interrupted by an occasional cloud separation allowing the sun to burst through, sometimes even for a day or two. This pattern will continue through the coming week, more closely resembling our typical winter weather.   We’re delighted since this could mean the end of our drought conditions.   

     Unfortunately, further inland the Midwestern states. especially those around our Great Lakes, are being subjected to really cold temperatures, ice and snow, much like Antarctica as my family member informs me.   Also, one of our Michigan blogger buddies has had power outages from severe freezing temperatures, ice on power lines causing other adverse living conditions at her home affecting water lines, indoor appliances, as she was able to briefly describe – click on link above.    

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CONSIDER.....LOSS SYMBOLIZES MUCH.....REMEMBERING  

One recurring thought has formulated as a consequence of so many memories fluttering through my mind some nights/mornings before sleep arrives.   On those occasions I find suddenly it’s morning, causing me to arise later in the day in order to get adequate sleep hours, but this upsets my day’s routine.   Perhaps expressing thoughts here will put to rest some of those, generally, gentle pleasurable nighttime, but involuntary mental reminiscences.  They’re  partially brought on by numerous unanticipated losses in recent years narrowing the number of my close intimates remaining among the living. 

I’ve begun to realize there’s more meaning to my feelings of loss than just for the individual than I might have thought would occur.    Others  coping with losses, too, might prefer focusing on different topics, but this is my reality which I’ve been unable to ignore as my 2019 posts  may reflect --  perhaps by writing I can lessen some of my late-night thoughts. 

I’ve been prompted by various events or information I’ve received to engage in some checking on some friends from whom I’ve not had contact for some time.   Searching the Internet, also for various city newspapers can reveal some answers.   In one instance, ways in which to contact one friend have become unusually more complicated, since how we’ve always communicated is suddenly no longer viable.  So, I still await learning more about her status.  

Unfortunately, I sadly just learned another friend died -- last fall.   Perhaps her adult children didn’t have a password to her email account to know of our contact all these years, thus to let me know.    But, a holiday letter I wrote this year was not returned, so maybe it’s been forwarded to the adult children I’ve never met and they will yet contact me.    If not, at least finding her obituary on the Internet, I now know my friend’s status. 

I typically don’t leave comments on those Internet public obituary sites – writing those intimate, sometimes humorous private little personal notes I might want to share only with family.   I did write a blog tribute without naming my last life-long friend who died a couple years ago, but letting her family know.   Her younger sister was delightedly pleased to learn from my blog some of the activities in which we engaged when young – including that we were on a dance team foursome together.   

The loss I recognize feeling now, I’ve come to realize encompasses far more for me than the sense of just being associated with the increasing number of my intimates departing life in recent years.   These most recent friends are the last living individuals who were part of my community in that city where I had so many significant experiences both personally, and where I began my intended TV broadcasting career as a young single woman, then later my early married life.   

Each of several preceding years one friend or another died, culminating now with everyone gone from there except for the remaining uncertainty about one friend’s s status.   There’s no one left who remembers “when” ... with whom so much was shared that no one else would know .... a strange awareness there’s no one left with whom to exchange memories -- almost like losing part of my life! 

I’ve come to realize this also seems like a separation from this particular city and state – a place symbolizing so much significance in my life – that absent these friends presence, no longer would I have that sense of returning home there.   In fact, with no one left in that state of my birth, except a couple distant relatives with whom contact long ago ended,  I’m left feeling quite separated. 

These feelings aren’t  overwhelming by any means, or depressing – they just are – perhaps a melancholy -- an aspect of my life long taken for granted that is ceasing to exist.    Never had it occurred to me such a severance  would ever become true.  In a way we lose bits and pieces of ourselves little by little and ultimately our bodies follow.  

No doubt some of you may have had similar feelings attached to your own experiences with particular people, places and life – losses of one type or another resulting in your being the only one left to remember.

DOESN'T MATTER

Life is fragile and we have so much for which to be grateful as I described my 9/11 Remembrance last year.   I pay tribute to those whose lives were taken from them as a consequence of the events on and associated with that fateful day -- to their families and friends who forever acutely feel their loss. 

(Writing this particular piece for publishing today is purely coincidental.  Clearly what matters is valuing every minute of every day which we may sometimes forget when caught up in our own angst.)

Awakening after seven or more hours of sleep one weekend day, I arose to satisfy nature’s urge, then went to the kitchen,  glanced out the window noticing the papers had been delivered, returned to bed and slept until noon.  I’ve come to enjoy those hours when once in a while I return to bed, since generally lovely dreams, that I even remember afterward, fill my mind.

When I awaken again, a button pressed allows the radio news, weather reports to bring me up to date on life outside my house.  All the usual, another sunny day, firefighters still battling the flames in the forests distanced enough to the north, that the smoke-filled air is well beyond my environs, much less visible.  Storm warnings up the coast in the earlier-this-year strawberry festival city of Oxnard with possible wind and hail expected later today. 

Wandering out to the kitchen again, I see the newspapers still lying on the drive in their rain and sprinkler water-protective  plastic wrappings when I again glance out the window.   I decide I’ll bring in the papers, so don a jacket over my pajama top, a half-way body covering, since the pajama bottoms seem somehow less of an affront should someone drive by who might see me while I was engaged in my newspaper retrieval task.  Rarely ever are any of the neighbors in surrounding homes visible, but even their eyes would likely not be shocked or offended should they catch a glimpse of my strange-looking somewhat meagerly clad form.

Returning to my front door, I notice the mail has been delivered already today, so remove our city newspaper, flyer ads, promotional letters with one addressed to my long deceased husband, plus only one business letter of any consequence.  I miss the days when there was almost always a personal hand or type written letter from some friend or family member.  Once inside, jacket removed, my newspapers extracted from their protective covering, I decide to just sit down in the living room with them.  

I don’t have to gaze around the room to know there are, as always, an overwhelming number of tasks which I need to undertake that have multiplied daily in number since my husband’s death over six years ago, yet I continue to leave them all mostly undone.  Matters haven’t been helped by the fact I’ve drug at lot of “stuff” into the living room, ostensibly to sort, that I never quite get completed.   Refocusing on today's activities, I do sort the reading portions of these daily  newspapers from the advertisements I discard unread, along with the sports pages after I glance at the headlines, and special car sales sections. 

Misc. news items, gardening tips, music, theatre and film festival reports give way to the regular physician’s medical column feature of the day, followed by my chuckling through the half-dozen or so cartoons I enjoy reading.   The living room radio has continued broadcasting since I transitioned to that unit much earlier after leaving my bedroom.  The print reading now complete,  I tip my head to rest against the recliner chair back.   I am unmotivated to begin any activity, think about simply returning to the bed’s comfort, though I’m not sleepy and don’t feel tired.   I could care less about booting up my computer, and reading emails, blogs or going to other Internet sites.  I consider linking to music, but am not really certain what I might want to hear. 

My thoughts wonderingly examine why I’m actually listless, though I don’t feel dark thoughts as might be associated with the blues, or depression.  I wonder why I don’t become interested or enthusiastic about organizing my home’s interior into one presentable to not only myself but others?   Why don’t I care enough to just do all I need to do here – simply to please myself – and never mind any body else?  What crosses my mind is, that it just doesn’t matter. 

There is no one locally, unlike most of my past years here, who is going to pleasantly surprise me with a phone call asking what I’m doing, and would I like to join them for a cup of coffee and just chat for a while.  I realize there is no one who might show up unexpectedly at my door.  I realize there is no one I want to phone to inquire if they would like to get together for a  bit, just to discuss life, general nonsense, or intimate thoughts, concerns and questions.

When I consider taking off in the car, I realize the better part of wisdom for me is that maybe I shouldn’t be making long distance auto driving trips alone, even once I have my car completely checked over to make sure it would be safe for such trips.   I realize, as I’ve been aware for some time, that even making such a trip would likely not be as enjoyable as I might anticipate, because there would be no one of like mind with whom to share the experience. 

Additionally, I realize that my efforts at involving myself in activities interesting to me have resulted in my meeting few people here with whom I might establish close intimate relationships.  Good trusting friends take time to establish and as we age time gets much shorter, but the time required to develop those relationships often does not.  I did meet one such person (though we had know each other casually for over 30 years,) but inconsiderately life unexpectedly presented them with only a few short months existence after sudden onset of life-terminating health problems last year. 

Yes, others I’ve met, we share similar interests, but they already have such companionship with their spouses, so I urge them to treasure their time together.  Others, in some instances, already have their own longtime circle of friends who are all fortunately still living.  Yes, the spouse, local friends as I once had enjoyed – just as they sought out and enjoyed me – are long gone from this immediate area – and  many elsewhere, expired.   I’m glad I’m alive and would not want to be otherwise, but these years are not as I had expected them to be.   Selfishly, I fully anticipated many of those friends would share these years with me, especially the younger ones.  I suppose the situation doesn't alter as we get older in this living lottery

I think I may know why I’m motivated primarily only to go to work.  In addition to enjoying my work, the people I meet, and with whom I interact – that work impetus may only be partly because I made the commitment, so I have a professional obligation to honor it as long as I choose to keep working.   Other than that, my bottom line is that I don’t care – nothing else seems to matter that much.   

Still --- yes, I care about my children and their children, but they are far removed geographically, so they aren’t going to stop by.   They can’t pop in given the miles that separate us, as I know they would otherwise.  But then, if they did live by, they would have their own responsibilities.  That would be okay,  I want them to have a life of their own and I know how busy their lives can be – so many demands.  I, too, lived that life once, as I think about the contact I had across the miles with my mother.   I don’t want to move to either of my children’s parts of the country –  they’re even widely separated geographically from each other, too.

Sometimes I’m envious of those who have family living close around, then I hear of the conflicts and challenges that sometimes pose for all and think my situation doesn’t have those issues.   Still I’m tempted to wonder if I’m out-of-sight, out-of-mind, but I refuse to badger, complain and aggressively demand attention which would only seed undeserved guilt, possibly resentment and maybe even anger.

If the geographic distance wasn’t so great, I would undertake periodic driving trips to spend short visiting times – so much better for all of us than descending on them for long periods of time when I fly in.   Also, flying comfort is so unpleasant now, plus once I’m there I have no transportation to go out and about, it's inconvenient to borrow theirs – not worth renting a car -- not really areas to walk to nearby.  They don’t subscribe to newspapers, so I don’t  familiarize myself with what of interest is going on in their area.    

Guess I’ll boot up the computer and check my personal email.  How exciting!  My DIL has emailed me several photos from her smart phone.  My handsome (Grandma bragging rights invoked here) red-headed grandson is visiting the petting zoo, quite intrigued with all the animals and their noises, especially the piggies.  Also, he’s at the top of the slide, informing his mother he’s quite capable of sliding down on his own without her assistance, thank you.   Oh my!  He’s growing so fast – walking and running all over since he was nine months or so. 

Lost in thought, my phone rings – I’m surprised -- the call is from my daughter.  I know she is incredibly pre-occupied with all that’s going on in her home, none the least of which is studying for her classes, aiding my granddaughter as she begins her senior high school year and so much more for both of them.  My daughter is so tired and sleepy as I hear the periodic yawns in her voice.  We have a loving mother-daughter conversation that I eventually end, tucking her in with a hug and kiss across these miles for a much-needed good night’s sleep.  Her morning will come much too soon.   I remember those years only too well.

Where did the day go?  Evening arrives and I decide to cater to my whim for part of my weekly fish allotment.  Furthermore, I’m not going to cook – though I have some frozen salmon filets which are probably more healthy for me than what I have in mind.  Why not just go to that fast food place and get a fish sandwich?  That’s what I’ll do, but I’ll dress from the top up, still leave on those pajama bottoms – no one will know the difference – sure hope I don’t have an auto accident.  Mom always said it was important to have clean underwear on when I left home.  Oh well, off I go.

Soon I’m home again.  I feel just a little bit wicked having gone off dressed as I was, or undressed, depending on your perspective, but at least I’m not one of those people I’ve read about occasionally who are discovered stark naked in the car.  That’ll never be me, rest assured dear reader! 

Aren’t I lucky!  I do have good close friends, including one I’ve known all my life with whom I have frequent contact.  It’s just that none of them live here in my city any more.  And I have such a loving caring family, however few there are of us, regardless of the miles that separate us, who certainly don’t neglect me.   I suppose all of us have times when we may feel a bit alone in the world, but we really aren’t if we think about it.  Besides, I also have all my Blogger Buddies, too!

Economy, Catastrophes, Bloggers, Hope

My previous post on the exorcism of evil spirits evolved into releasing these thoughts. The past few days news reports tell of a local bank on the verge of bankruptcy. Rumors suggest a different bank which had been presumed to have been rescued by another institution at the beginning of the financial collapse may not be purchased after all. This leaves me wondering what happens to that bank? California Public Employees Retirement System announced extensive losses, but officials hope its broad investments will enable them to weather a long term down turn. Additional news stories speak of California companies and others across the country laying off employees, going out of business and filings for bankruptcy.

Our state of California has been in dire financial straits for years. A previous governor, Gray Davis, had been recalled because he wanted to take some unpopular financial action toward resolving our problems. I was enraged since the recall forced a special election at considerable public expense when our state already had no money to spare. The new governor, Arnold Schwarzenegger, in office for several years now has yet to rectify the deficits but now wants to institute the very financial action he condemned the recalled governor for wanting to take. Neither governors bear all the blame for our state's poor financial status. Our state legislators and residents have certainly contributed to the mess, too.

Do aspects of that scenario sound familiar? Reminds me of a microcosm of our federal government operations. Our government hopes to resolve some financial issues by manipulating our state lottery. Thank heavens we don't have a federal lottery. Maybe we really do and it's what the U.S. Treasury is doing with our 700 billion loan.

Depending on how these issues all work out I may be more adversely affected than by the limited way I have been so far. I expect my story and/or variations is/are already true, or may gradually become more true for many across this country in their own states. Uncertainty reigns supreme for many, not just Wall Street as I listen to the analysts speculate about the market going up and down, with some saying we've hit bottom. They don't know any more about where bottom is now than when they said the bubble would keep expanding.

They chortled over Alan Greenspan's use of language in his periodic vague reports including his pronouncement years ago about financial world issues of "irrational exuberance." His protecting ordinary people during such times and ensuring enforcement of existing financial rules might have helped but were ignored. Am I supposed to feel compensated now because he says words to the effect, "Oops, I made a mistake"? Financial peddlers and advisors to whom so many listen are easily off the hook with similar simple acknowledgments, "Oh, guess I was wrong this time."

I watch with keen interest the actions of the U.S. Treasury Secretary, Henry Paulson, this current administration and legislators. I expect their accountability as to just how much and to whom they are distributing my money in that 700 billion dollar loan. I have a few debts of my own as you might note in earlier posts about major purchases I've had to make this year. So, I don't have a lot of money to line the pockets of those who got us into this mess, or to pad the pockets of any new greedy types.

I listened to the discussion on Charlie Rose's program (Thurs., 11/13)that in the past twenty years the United States has gone from being the largest creditor in the world to the largest debtor in the world. Preparatory to this weekend's Economic Summit, his guest spoke of countries needing to give up certain financial sovereignty to some international monetary organization to provide regulation and govern the world's economy. This interview can be seen at the Charlie Rose Show's website.

Also, since I began writing this the night of 11/13 our local television news has been replete with heart-breaking fire-filled pictures and verbal narrative describing devastating destruction of homes in the Montecito area, an upscale enclave near Santa Barbara, home to many celebrities. Since then additional fires in Southern California have been engulfing more homes in both Los Angeles and Orange Counties. Miraculously, no known lives have been taken. Injuries have been limited to firemen which is not wanted either though none have been reported to be serious. My heart always goes out to those subjected to catastrophe and those hurt trying to help.

Just before sunset tonight as I drove home my eye caught an awesome view in the southwest sky ahead of me. I saw a gigantic large round fiery red sun that appeared exactly like the link. The sun gradually dropped behind gray streaked clouds before sinking out of sight on the horizon. The sight of the sun was an obscenely spectacular sight when I considered the atmospheric conditions responsible for it's coloring. Resident evacuations are continuing as fires threaten thousands of homes in areas a significant distance south and east of where I live, so I'm not remotely in any danger, nor will I be.

Trying to put all these events, circumstances and many more situations in perspective can be overwhelming. Some more directly affect my life than others. We are all connected to these topics in some way as well as to each other. I am reminded to be grateful for what I currently have. I also know I cannot expend emotional energy over what I cannot control, but determining what I can try to change and what not is not always easy. My life issues seem quite trivial when I consider an overall view of all the issues I've mentioned.

I've understood I must find my own way to maintain joy, pleasure and happiness in my daily life. I learned I have choices as to how I perceive and interpret my experiences even during the most difficult of circumstances. Like many people, I personally have relished finding humor in some of the most bleak situations I've encountered in life as a way of remaining in good spirits.

I think many of the bloggers I've encountered have survived life's extreme offerings in much the same way. Perhaps it is this underlying attitude toward living that permeates most of our writing that not only links us, but provides support enabling each of us to view the future with hope.

Time To Talk

I recall that Saturday, May 13, 2006 morning standing by my husband's bedside, still absorbing the fact of his unexpected death during his sleep. The understanding and supportive police officer stood quietly across from me at the far corner of the foot of the bed. He had arrived at my home within a few short minutes in response to my emergency 911 phone call, after I discovered my husband's lifeless body whose facial skin was already cool to the touch of my fingertips and lips. The officer had offered his help with various questions as to what I might like him to do, or what did I want to do ... whatever. I just recall his calm, rational manner, but I cannot bring to mind many of the specific words exchanged between us.

I'm sure he must have inquired about the circumstances of my husband's death which I vaguely recall describing to him as I, too, was trying to make sense of it all. I think I told him of my husband having just seen his doctor the previous morning for a follow-up visit. For the prior two to three years, my husband had periodically undergone various tests to determine whether or not he had a small abdominal aortic aneurysm. Sometimes the aneurysm appeared to be present, sometimes not, but the medical action plan had been to track the small bulge for any increase in size. Tracking had been an ongoing problem since the bulge often was hidden from view during ultrasounds. The definitive angiogram or MRI (Magnetic Resonance Imaging) tests could not be administered since he had other serious medical problems making either test unsafe for him.

My husband had told me the Dr. said the results of this most recent ultrasound once again failed to reveal the aneurysm's presence, but they could not conclude it no longer existed, much less know its current size. Once I made that 911 call, I know I remained on the phone with the operator until the police officer arrived. I know I phoned each of our children, reaching my son immediately, leaving a message for my daughter for our later conversation, but I cannot recall making those calls, when in the sequence of activities I made them, or receiving calls returned. I do remember my son saying he would immediately begin making arrangements to fly home. He arrived later that night. My daughter and granddaughter came home at a mutually agreed upon later date, but we had frequent phone contact daily until then. I don't recall whether that day or later days I phoned others significant in my life.

I knew I must remain strong for my children and myself. I was very good at that with lots of experience. Always before for me, once the crisis was over would be time to emotionally let down. This time proved to be the same only to a degree, but different in so many other ways including the process that lay ahead of adapting to my life being forever changed.

Later the officer went outside to direct the emergency teams. I expected their arrival would be heralded first by the large red fire truck with sirens screaming, soon followed by a small red paramedic truck, from having experienced that scenario before numerous times when I had to call them for my mother. This time, when they arrived on my street, there was no siren since I presume they had been forewarned there was no life in the balance here. An advance directive clearly specified no extraordinary means were to be taken to prolong my husband's life, but he was past the point of having such techniques administered anyway.

Before the officer went outside to direct paramedics to our house, I stood by my dead husband's side, thoughts racing through my mind of those hours from the last time I had spoken with him, had seen him breathing peacefully in his sleep, until the moment I found him. So many words came to mind. For much too long there had been sensitive topics around the edges of which we skirted, that might gradually emerge from time to time. There were those topics with other issues of more recent vintage where the rocky barriers had only begun to be worn down, allowing our words to begin sliding more easily over their once razor sharp edges.

I told the officer, as though somehow he could call back my husband and we could rectify this matter that was pressing on my mind, "There was so much we needed to talk about...so much that we hadn't had an opportunity to yet say...."

In retrospect now, I pause to think, that fateful Saturday the 13^th day he died was the same day and date we had begun our first full day as husband wife so many decades ago. We were married on the preceding Friday night the 12^th -- the exact same day and date I shared my husband's last wakeful living moments, two months shy of our forty-third wedding anniversary. Just imagine, in forty-three years, we still had much love and laughter to share, so much more we needed to talk about.

If Only ...

... computer Internet connection glitches hadn't occurred, the following piece would have been posted sooner. As I am writing how encouraged I now feel with being able to consistently access the Internet, I see the lights on my modem fluttering, losing connection, then connecting again for a short time. Seems my posting and commenting future remains a mystery.

The recent July 12th post about "What if ... If only..." elicited a consensus of thoughts I found to be of interest. I realized that commenters and I have likely already lived over half of our lives. So, we do have some experiences over a lengthy period of time on which to reflect. Thanks to all for offering your thoughts on this topic.

There seems to be universal agreement among us that we all wonder from time to time, "what if?" other choices had been made, or different events had occurred during our lives than what we actually experienced.

There may have been isolated specific events over which we had no control, that we would have preferred never happened, but we have adapted, assumed a learning perspective.

Sometimes we’ve made choices not in our own best interest, but we’ve made an effort to not repeat those same mistakes – no matter how many times we’ve had to keep trying.

Also, what seems to be true is that we don't invest in excessive thoughts of regret over our past life experiences, which I think is healthy.

Generally, we concur that whatever our experiences, they have made us who we are.

No one seemed to conclude that their lives would automatically have been better had other choices or circumstances prevailed. That, too, seems to me like a pretty realistic way to view life.

Our truth is we'll never know "what might have been," but we aren't going to expend our time and energy, or make ourselves unhappy thinking about "what if ... or if only..."

I believe such a positive view is significant, since I would surmise that many our age and older have encountered difficult times, had personal or professional setbacks, or what seemed to be so at the time. We should all be quite proud that despite all we may have endured, we have survived. Just as I drew strength from the knowledge of how my elders had coped with life experiences, perhaps those younger than us may be equally affected by our stories that we share with them.

I am reminded of a Stephen Sondheim song, "I'm Still Here," written for a 1971 Broadway musical "Follies."

This "Follies" production, viewed retrospectively, has been described by New York Times writer Barry Singer as a hallmark of Broadway's musical theatres past glories. The 2001 article, stimulated by a restaged version of the show, notes "Follies" embodies the death of musicals as once known, while at the same time heralding the advent of musicals as we know them today.

He also writes "Yvonne De Carlo, who, in the supporting role of Carlotta Campion, stopped the show nightly by singing "I'm Still Here," a song Mr. Sondheim wrote for her." Here’s a YouTube link to Yvonne De Carlo singing that memorable song at The Hollywood Bowl.

Mr. Singer also writes, "Old age is old age and I'm not going to go in a corner and pout about it," Ms. De Carlo said" by telephone from her California home. "Back then, all I thought about was, `How long am I going to be able to go on like this?' Now, I've lived through a stroke. I can't tap dance anymore. But then again, I never really could. I am, however, definitely still here." She continued to be "still here" until January 8, 2007.

The "I'm Still Here" song lyrics have been reproduced by June Abernathy who has accompanied them with brief comments explaining the colorful names and memorable historical events mentioned in the song. Some of us will make the association immediately with lines such as "Five Dionne babies," "Major Bowes," and "Windsor and Wally's Affair" along with many more.

Shirley MacLaine sang a poignant rendition of “I’m Still Here” in the movie “Postcards From The Edge” (1990) also viewable on YouTube.Other artists’ interpretations may be seen at YouTube.

My favorite version is available on a CD sung on "Elaine Stritch At Liberty" from her one woman stage show.

This famous Broadway entertainer's comedic lead-in line to the song jokingly takes liberties with her age as she entered her sixth decade in show business with voice at full strength at this CDs recording time.

I should acknowledge to having an “If Only…” fantasy. I do wish I could have been in the house on many an opening night during the years some have referred to as The Golden Age of Broadway.

But then, there have been a number of musicals since that time I would have enjoyed as a first nighter also. Seems there is always something to look forward to in life. I hope I never lose that outlook.