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Here is my brother, Mikey, with his daughter Nina. Mikey is recovering from a recent hospital stay, during which time Nina was so very helpful. As we age into fragility, it is very important to have caring family and friends to help support us. Mikey rode his bike to Nina's salon for a haircut. This is a major step forward in his recovery. Or is it a major peddle forward?

Familiar?

“Every record has been destroyed or falsified, every book rewritten, every picture has been repainted, every statue and street building has been renamed, every date has been altered. And the process is continuing day by day and minute by minute. History has stopped. Nothing exists except an endless present in which the Party is always right.”

― George Orwell, 1984

Brielle and Julian in Tuscany. They stayed at a lovely villa and each day set out on a bike ride with Bob, Julian's father and some other friends. After their rides they came back to the villa and were served wonderful meals.

Brielle and Julian invited me to come to Tuscany one day to meet them. I gladly accepted.

Brielle and Julian at a restaurant in Tuscany after their bike ride.

Gordon is graduating from preschool today, a happy guy. He is so excited to be going to kindergarten in a couple of months. We are having a family party to celebrate this monumental occasion.

Psychic Battery

As I entered the apartment, I noticed the bookshelves crammed with adventure chronologies. Somebody had loved to travel. Overall, there was the general chaos of patient care piled on the counters and furniture – medicines, diapers, blood pressure monitors and thermometers. The patient’s bed was lying in the middle of the dining room, facing a bank of windows. His breathing was shallow and erratic. He was unconscious.

I had come in response to an urgent call from hospice. Could I please come to give respite to a caregiver who had been on duty for days as her partner was entering the final stages of life transition? Of course I could.

It would be just a couple of hours that she could use to restore herself. Maybe she could take a walk or just sit on a bench or take a drive. When leaving, she grabbed her car keys and said, “It’s been so long, I don’t even know if I can still drive.”

“Of course you can,” I said. In giving her a moment away, I felt a splinter of hope. Maybe she could recharge a cell or two in her psychic battery. I sat and read beside the patient for two hours.

When she returned, I said that I hoped she got a chance to take a deep breath. She thanked me for helping her. I left to go about my normal life routines. Somehow though, I was very tired. Giving a helping hand is hard sometimes.

I went hiking in Coral Reef State Park with Margaret, my friend from high school - 65 years ago. We were stunned by the variation in colors in the layers of rock. It was astonishingly beautiful. What a nice way to celebrate our upcoming 80th birthdays. It was less crowded than Arches or Zion. We were delighted.

Hiking in Coral Reef State Park, Utah

On a trip to Disneyland. Gordon, of course, had to fly the jet to get to LA.

Dear Ursula

You have been gone for 14 years

Yet every day I think of you

When I make the bed.

The black and white knit quilt

That you made for me

Still keeps me warm every night.

It is a tangible reminder that

The work you put into every stitch

Reflected the love and kindness

You brought into my life.

I can miss you every day and still

Feel the coziness of your caring.

The Pink House

When we walk Melba, our dog around the neighborhood and across the trails along the foothills, we pass this pink house. The place features a beautiful view from the back veranda across the meadow and up to the mountains.

It used to be that an elderly man and his small dog would be sitting together on the porch each morning. As we passed by, the man would greet us. The dog would run up to the fence and either wag or bark, depending on his mood. Our dog would, of course, respond with a barrage of wags and half-arfs.

For the past few months, there has been no sign of the former residents. The house seems vacant - dark in the day and in the evening. The place and the yard are maintained. But there is no life. I wonder where they are or if they have both gone to the great beyond.

Sometimes though, when I pass, I feel a sense of peace. Maybe my former neighbors are watching from another reality? if only I believed that.

Great News

I saw my new oncologist recently. She was very clear that with new treatments (Car T Cell therapy) my latent multiple myeloma can be contained, controlled and zapped. This was a first!

When I was first diagnosed, 15 years ago, I was told to "get my affairs in order" because I would have maybe 18 months to live. Then I was told that 60% of patients would survive transplant, which I did. Then, that the median lifespan would be 15 years. That is where I am now.

So, to hear that there is no death sentence hanging over my head was great news. Of course, I am about to be 80 years old, which is another whole set of challenges. But at least I feel free from a lurking blood cancer threat.

Now forward with plans for my 80th birthday party, which Brielle would love to organize. Don't know that I am up for a massive group thing, but I would love to go to Sante Fe for the opera. My family may reluctantly agree - not really opera fans, they. We'll see...

Here is Gordon the warrior on his fifth birthday.

WHEW!

The results from Jerry's recent scans show no return of cancer. This is obviously, a great relief. His energy is slowly expanding, even to the point that he is playing with jazz groups a couple of times a week.

And to further expand our circle of joy, the results from my latest blood tests seem to be in the normal range. (Thank you AI translation.) I see my oncologist on the 19th of March, so that should confirm my belief.

Brielle says it is time to begin prep for my 80th birthday celebration. So, we are looking at a party here at home and then maybe a trip to Santa Fe to the opera. So fun.

Now, if only the world war that the Orange Monster has started could end. Gotta keep on hoping...

As I went into the assisted living facility, I met a man in a wheelchair on the front porch. I pulled one of the dozens of long-stemmed roses out of my barrel and handed it to him. He smiled broadly, thanked me and stuck it into a little hole in the arm of the chair, where it bobbed back and forth.

Continuing into the facility, I knocked on doors and entered rooms where the inhabitants were often alone. Handing them roses which had handwritten, joyful messages attached, I saw smiles and even some tears. "Happy Valentine's Day," I said to each person. Every time in return, I received thanks and happy grins.

What better way to celebrate Valentine's Day?

On our neighborhood stroll each morning, we see this bear. Today, he is wearing Valentine regalia. He brightened our morning.

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