One of my observations of life is this: time will continue and yet so many of are standing the same place we were standing in years ago. Our feet may have moved and we may have seen many different things, but inside we are exactly where we were before. No growth, no more wisdom.

Another observation is this: much of the events are reactions to those events are all weaved together in our minds. It is not necessarily an even and orderly weave. My guess is for most of us it is a weave that has no pattern and is undoubtedly chaotic and confusing to sort through.

Seemingly separate events somehow affect another. Is the constant the events? No, it is us as human beings, individuals with minds that think, (well, some of us have minds that think) and emotions we try to grasp.

For me, right now, I do not seem to be tired. I am looking back at approximately 30 years, when my life as I created it, was being created on rather shakey ground. I would say everyone realized that, but me. I am a slow learner and I usually just deal with the task on hand, the here and now. Why? I don't know. Just my make up, I guess. Tell me what needs to be done and I'll do it. The thinking about the whys and wherefores and the effects, I save that for the middle of the night. Not a good process, I admit, but it would seem the way I work.

Anyway, it's all tied together. That's what I'm trying to say. Family issues affect other family issues. The woven memories all entwined in a rat's nest, that most days I say well, that's the way it is. Deal with it. I do and then night falls and here we are.

Anyway, when my life was on that shakey ground and I was just starting out, he was in the middle of his life, and yet in many ways, his life was sort of ending, only none of us knew it yet.

I was luckier than some. I had the childhood with the father who could play ball, who would take us camping, who enjoyed life and living. He taught us to try and to enjoy and he liked to laugh. And I had the childhood with the mother who was nurturing and caring and who also loved to laugh, and who made us feel like all was right with the world. They are both good parents who loved their children and who both deserved so much more than they were given.

It's all entangled. That's my point. I am not making it well. Who I am today has been so much influenced by who he was, who he was forced to become, and how it affected him, my mother, my siblings, my children, and me. It shaped how I see the world and choices I have made. Good, bad or indifferent. I guess some might say I should be grateful for that. Some might say God only gives you what you can handle. I don't know what I say on that. I say how can anything in life be so cruel to a person for so long. There is such a thing as quality of life.

And then I say, that I should remember to count my blessings. There are many tragedies in this world. That is not the point tonight.

The point is that it is all entwined in my head. What have I learned to unravel from the rat's nest in my head over the years is probably very little.

I do know, that I strive to make things count. If it is enjoying a bird on a tree or an ice cream sunday, I try to remind myself that this time on this earth is short. And there is no guaranty that each day I am here, I will have the physical ability to walk through the zoo or eat an apple on my own. I remind myself that all that is around me is a gift. I do not want to waste the time here. I do not know how much time I have. I try to do what I can to extend the time and still it is a crap shoot. How many times have we heard of the physically fit person who just dropped dead on the street one day. It's all a gift.

God knows I am not perfect at practicing this philosophy. I swear at stupid drivers. I worry about work. I get nervous about finances. Sometimes when my joints hurt, I can't help but complain. But I try to remember as best I can to keep going with my head high and to breath it all in, even the bad. Because all of it is living.

If I'm on the treadmill and I just don't feel like doing it anymore...I will look down at my legs and be grateful they are moving and that they carry me as they do. Who knows if they will tomorrow or next month. And somehow, I forget that I don't feel like running anymore and I complete my work out as originally planned.

Blah, blah blah, right?

Maybe. Here's the thing. This attitude, this need to live isn't in a bubble. It needs to encompass my whole life or it doesn't mean anything. I won't sit down and wait for...for what? What are we waiting for? Tomorrow. If I can't tell you how I feel today, will tomorrow be any easier? And tomorrow and tomorrow and tomorrow and they all add up, as Harold Hill says, "a lot of empty yesterdays." That is not who I want to be. And it's a choice we each must make.

I think about my future in terms of the present and the past. If it was me in that bed, who would be there to help me through it? I hope not a Harry Houdini. I don't need Harry Houdini. I need somebody brave enough and scared enough to be there with me, to live it with me, and that way we are living, not existing, through the good and the bad. I believe there is a difference. I have made the choice in my life to live.

I talk a good game, don't I? And yet, here I am up at night, unable to sleep. Why? Quite simply put, after all this time, I am in the same spot, in a way, only now, I can recognize that I am on shakey ground. That's kind of funny if you think about it.

Nite all.