Category: Death

And Yet I Smile

Published on by Sharron BurnettLeave a comment

fa63118bf63a334a496e6b0794b8de96--smile-qoutes-smiley-faces(With acknowledgment to the writers of The Walking Dead)

It has been a very difficult year from start to finish, and yet I smile. Many of my friends and relatives have endured illnesses and even deaths, and yet I smile. I witnessed my husband lying on the floor of a bathroom, slurring his words, unable to lift himself, and yet I smile. I watched in horror as my city filled with flood waters while fifty one inches of rain fell relentlessly, and yet I smile. Dear friends have suddenly died leaving me with a longing for the fun times that we shared, and yet I smile. My mother-in-law fell and broke her arm while my father-in-law fell and bruised his body, and yet I smile. There has been a fire in my kitchen, damage to my once lovely patio, and yet I smile. In so many countless ways the last eleven months have brought an unfair share of misery all around me, and yet I smile. Why is this so? It is because I am still here, still standing, still fighting the good fight, and through all of the travails I have learned again and again how wonderful people are, and so I smile.

I cannot control what happens to me, but I am always able to determine how I will react. I change and become a slightly newer person with every event, good or bad, that overtakes me. I may choose to collapse in a state of sadness which I honestly often do, but I may also look for the tiniest drop of positivity in even the darkest moments. When I find that grain of hope, I smile. Sometimes there is little more that I might do than to turn the corners of my mouth upward and view my situation with a bit of humor. Laughter almost always makes me feel as good as a big ugly cry does. A release of my emotions provides me with the will and the power to tackle whatever job lies ahead, and when I can choose I prefer finding something, anything about which to smile.

I haven’t always been this way. For much of my life I bemoaned my fate. I was a sad sack filled with self pity. I felt beset upon because my father died. I pouted because I counted how much I lacked rather than glorying in what I had. I was dissatisfied with my appearance, my personality, all sorts of things. I was jealous of people who appeared to enjoy life in ways that seemed unavailable to me. In other words I found only the bad and almost never the good that was always present but I hidden from my view. Then one day I smiled. It felt empowering to concentrate on my good fortune rather than my bad luck. I learned to approach each day much as people do in November by counting my blessings, and so now I frequently smile.

The reality of my husband’s health problems is a bitter pill, and yet I smile because he is still here with me. I know the importance of enjoying each and every minute that I have with him. I savor our conversations, the things that we share. I need little more than his companionship to make me smile.

I marveled at the outpouring of kindness that has flowed over my city during and in the aftermath of the floods. I have cried when viewing the damaged homes, and yet I smile, because there is a can do spirit every place that I go. I now understand that I will never be all alone. There are enough compassionate people that surely someone will always step forward to help me in an hour of need just as they have assisted so many. I smile because ours is not an ugly world, but a beautiful one in which people sometimes falter. I now believe that love will always find a way to conquer even the most terrible tragedies.

I miss the friends and relations who have died, and yet I smile, because when all is said and done I have laughed and played and enjoyed my time with them. I have known their love and it is a treasure that will always be alive in my heart. Even knowing how I may hurt when they are gone, I would go gladly go back in time to repeat the moments that we shared. I would not want to change a thing about those amazing times.

I suppose that it is when things are the most difficult that we realize the significance of how wondrous our lives have actually been. I recall not so much the things that I have accumulated but instances when I watched my children running and playing so carefree and happy. I can almost hear the laughter of Christmases with my big crazy family, even though I don’t really recall the gifts that I received. I think of the people who demonstrated their love by attending my mother’s funeral. They may not think that I noticed that they were there to support me and my brothers, but I did, and so I smile. I see the mountains, rainbows, glistening lakes, towering forests, and falling snow in places that I have visited. Those images that live inside my mind make me smile. I feel a sense of pride and accomplishment when I think of the faces of my students lighting up with understanding. It feels so good to know that I did something so important.

Yes, not just this year but much of my life has had its share of disappointments, failures, tragedies, losses, and yet I smile. I have calculated the positive aspects of my existence and they far exceed those that made me sad. I’m still watching the sun rise and set. I keep moving forward toward who knows what. I will no doubt be challenged in ways that I have not yet imagined. I will have to endure tough times, and I yet I smile. I am certain that I will always somehow find the strength and support that I need. People that I know or have not yet met will walk with me on my journey, especially if I find the wherewithal to smile and the courage and gratitude that will allow them to help me. I have found the secret to happiness, and so I smile.

Twilight Dreams

Published on by Sharron BurnettLeave a comment

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You are never too old to set another goal or dream a new dream.—C.S. Lewis

I’ll be celebrating my sixty-ninth birthday this week and I still often behave as though I’m eighteen and just embarking on adult life. Sure I’m not as energetic as I once was nor as quick-witted, but as long as I am still able to care for myself I plan to keep dreaming.

There are certain things that were once on my bucket list that don’t matter much to me anymore. For a very long time I wanted to live in West University Place, an upscale neighborhood near Rice University. I love the big trees and old style architecture there along with the perk of being close to so much of the action in Houston. For most of my working years I held firm to the belief that I would one day get there, but the prices of the homes kept increasing, and my salary as an educator didn’t keep pace so it never happened. Once I realized that I may as well scratch that idea from my book of dreams I was briefly sad, but eventually it didn’t really matter anymore. I love my present home and my neighbors and have little desire to move. After the floods of hurricane Harvey I was was incredibly grateful that I survived without any damage and I didn’t once think of how it would have been if I had indeed found my way into West U. Sometimes such goals actually become irrelevant.

As I’ve aged my tastes and desires have changed. I’m much more mellow than I once was. I learned the importance of appreciating the many blessings that I have rather than constantly wanting more and more. Contentment has become my most worthy goal, and I am doing quite well in living the dream. I’ve become amazingly good at thoroughly enjoying myself just watching the birds and sipping on a class of wine in my backyard. I like long conversations with my husband, and the honor of helping my grandchildren with homework. I no longer have to be reminded to be thankful because I find myself thinking of my good fortune multiple times each day. I truly enjoy life whether I am doing something exciting or simply basking in the wonder of the people that I know.

When I was younger my dreams centered on finding success, accumulating things, becoming wealthy. I eventually realized that my desires were not making me happy because they were focused on the wrong things. Once I acknowledged the greater importance of being a good person and appreciating and cultivating relationships I began to have a sense of lightness even when I was merely performing routine tasks on very quiet days. It’s quite true that nobody takes any possessions with them when they die. They may be dressed in fine clothes, wearing golden rings and such, but few are ever remembered for what they owned. What truly remains are the legacies that they have created over time. For that reason my goals as I begin to approach my seventieth decade all center on people. I truly hope that I will leave love and memories of a purpose-filled life behind.

My dream is to stay healthy enough of mind and body that I will be able to continue to help and sometimes even inspire the people that I encounter. I don’t need much for myself anymore, but I would so like to be able to comfort and enrich other lives. I have begun to understand that it doesn’t always take a great deal of money or effort to do that. Just letting people know that they matter is a great gift. So many are struggling and the world can sometimes feel quite hateful. I want to be that person who smiles and improves a day that might otherwise have been bad.

It never takes great effort to bring joy into other people’s worlds, a kind word, an affirmation, just being there. When I received a “thinking of you” card from high school friends after my husband’s stroke it felt as though I had won the lottery. That little note of reassurance and thoughtfulness made what had been a very bad day seem bearable. My goal is to pay that sort of kindness forward a hundredfold. I suppose that everyone appreciates an unexpected pat on the back as much as I do.

I so admire Jimmy Carter for continuing to spend his time and talents in his twilight years helping the less fortunate. He might have traveled, played golf, spoiled himself, but instead he has dedicated his post White House years to being a shining beacon of hope for so many who might have suffered but for his largesse. I can’t think of more noble goals than the ones that he set for himself. I wonder if I would have been as forgiving as he was when the voters rejected him for a second term as president. As lesser man might have stewed in indignation. President Carter instead found a way to remain optimistic and loving. There aren’t many bonafide saints who were as magnanimous as he has been.

I have no idea when the clock will stop ticking for me. I’ve certainly witnessed friends and family members in my age group climbing the stairway to heaven. Their deaths remind me that none of us have a certain future. Nonetheless I plan to keep planning until I can no more. I think that just about anything is possible for me to accomplish as long as I don’t surrender to the passage of time. I’m just not yet ready to sit permanently in a rocking chair just watching the world go by. I suspect that there are still many miles to traverse and I want to walk them with a sense of accomplishment.

I’ve actually considered attempting to earn a doctorate, and the only thing that holds me back is that I would rather spend time with people than with books and my thoughts. I want laughter and love and life to be part of my days. I desire to have friendships and fun. I’d like to think that I have many more smiles to flash and hugs to give away. I want a twinkle in my eyes and a happy story on my lips. I believe that I have actually found the most worthy promises of my life, and I thank the good Lord that I have everything that I need to make all of them come true.

Sound and Fury

Published on by Sharron BurnettLeave a comment

texas-church-shooting-victims-comp-18-1530_bf40109d18256874b2e36df40ca16083.nbcnews-fp-1200-800Death is as much a part of the human experience as birth and all of the milestones in between. We never know exactly when our time here on earth will end unless we consciously choose to take our own lives. Even then our bodies may resist the harm that we inflict. We may awake to find that we have been saved. If we or a loved one contract a terminal illness we may begin to prepare for the inevitable fate, but still there is an uncertainty. Miracles do indeed sometimes happen. Thus we all understand that while death will be our ultimate end, it is up to each of us to make the most of the interim that defines our time here on earth.

It is in the goodness of our natures that we find the desire to make the world a better place. Our unselfish tendencies nurture the people that we encounter. It prompts us to put ourselves in harms way to save strangers. It urges us to share our bounty with the less fortunate. It results in democracy, justice and integrity. Each of us possess the traits of angels, but in our humanity there is also a dark side. Just as Cain allowed his jealousies to overcome his better instincts, so too do we find that within our same glorious minds we have thoughts that frighten us. Most of the time we control our baser sides, and so most of us are generally very good. Sadly, now and again we witness evil on a grand scale and it both frightens and befuddles us. We want to control it and drive it away, but we have yet to completely eradicate it. Even in the heavenly realm we are told that Lucifer fell from grace. We wonder how we can ensure a more peaceful world if the humanity of mankind continues again and again to bend in the direction of hate.

We have grown weary of witnessing death that results from the hands of individuals with warped minds. We understand that the enormity of their actions is complex and not easily addressed, but our instincts tell us that surely there must be ways to curb the violence that dominates the headlines all too often. Because of the infinite diversity of our backgrounds and thinking we have a difficult time agreeing on how to proceed in the face of mass murders that make schools, churches and entertainment venues unsafe. We respectfully take off our shoes, walk through x-ray machines, have our purses searched for potentially harmful items, follow speed limits, put our phones away while we are driving, limit our personal freedoms for the safety of the whole. We may find such intrusions to be annoying, but we endure them nonetheless because we believe that they are designed to help the greater good. Even though we also understand that any rules have an element of imperfection, we would rather try to prevent crimes than to ignore them.

There is a great debate over guns in our country that runs through a spectrum from those who would demand that nobody be allowed to own them to those who insist that it is a guaranteed right to possess any number or type of firearms as long as an individual has not been legally deemed unfit to do so. Each time a monster chooses to murder innocents with a gun we are horrified and the old debates ensue, but we are unable to find an answer because we seem to fear that one extreme or another will win the day. We appear to be incapable of engaging in a discussion that will lead to a compromise. We are at a standoff that accomplishes nothing. 

The arguments are all too familiar. We hear that those who kill are anomalies, and even if all of the rest of us were to surrender our guns tomorrow evil would still find a way to perpetrate foul deeds. We hear that people kill, not guns. We are told that in the immediate aftermath of tragedies we should not dishonor the dead with political discussions. We are urged to have more conversations of how to deal with the mental illnesses that so often fuel the rage of killers. It is suggested that we create stricter laws regarding the numbers and kinds of firearms that anyone may possess. We are urged to make the purchase of guns more difficult so that we will have fewer of them in our midst. We are reminded that criminals never follow laws anyway, so why have them. The arguments stretch on and on, and so we cry and mourn for those affected by tragedies, but remain at a stalemate regarding how to prevent them.

We see mass murders happening at an all too frequent rate, and we wring our hands in agony and fear that we may not be as safe as we would like to be. We don’t quite know what to do. We wonder and worry that any effort that we make will be in vain, and yet surely we have enough intellect and courage to devise a plan that will at least quell the violence even if it does not eliminate it entirely. We grow weary of the arguments and unwillingness to tackle an obvious problem. We understand that our leaders adopt points of view that they believe will get them reelected rather than being willing to venture into discussions of a plan aimed at ultimately reducing the probability that innocents going about their daily business will needlessly die.

I have prayed with all of my heart that those in whom we entrust the functioning of our nation will begin to listen to not just those who support them, but also those who disagree. Each of us must have a voice and yet there are all too many occasions in which those in power ignore half of the citizens. It has become the accepted way of doing things and as such little is ever accomplished. At any given moment in political time far too many feel disenfranchised. When they protest they are ridiculed. We are expected to take sides and then remain loyal to a particular set of beliefs no matter how questionable they may become. While engulfed in sound and fury signifying nothing, terror rains down on us, unborn children die, we fight even with those that we love.

I have been filled with great sadness of late. It is not a place where I wish to be. My innate nature is to be happy and optimistic. I believe with all of my heart that people are truly good. I have seen proof of this on a grand scale during the floods that threatened to destroy my city. I have celebrated after our baseball team won the World Series and noted how magnificently we came together without thoughts of our differences. I know that it is very possible to set aside our polarities and work together. The outcomes of our efforts will no doubt be imperfect but my mathematical mind tells me that it is possible to make closer and closer approximations to a perfection that may one day save lives.

Far too many of us are abrogating our rights to having a voice in our government. We shy away from discussions among ourselves. We are too busy to tell our representatives how we feel. We take our freedoms for granted and somehow believe that silence is preferable to making waves. We walk away from those whose opinions are different from ours rather than calmly engaging in discourse. We are afraid of disagreements and close our ears to ideas that conflict with ours. We wait for change rather than attempting to create it. We accuse those who demonstrate their concerns of being unpatriotic rather than pausing to understand what is bothering them. We fall prey to propaganda and soundbites rather than becoming truly informed. We all feel that something is very wrong but we fear what may occur if we pay attention for too long. Deep in our hearts we abhor what is happening but we are not willing to endure the process of setting things aright again.

I recently had a discussion with someone who had become disenchanted with Senator Ted Cruz of Texas because of his defiant speech at the Republican National Convention. Ironically I had always disliked the senator until the moment when he chose to stand up for his own beliefs. I still disagree with most of his ideas, but I thought it rather remarkable that he was willing to do the unthinkable by urging  members of his party to vote their consciences rather than blindly following the crowd. I was quite sad when he eventually fell in line for fear of alienating his party and losing his position. I would have preferred that he remain steadfast in feeling that we must stop the rock solid allegiances to people and philosophies even when we realize that they are hurting our country.

I cannot be certain that there is one action that will help to curb the gun violence that so plagues us. We need to address not just the ownership of guns but other issues as well. We continue to be confounded by the prevalence of mental illness. We must discuss the abuse of young children and the violence to which they are often exposed which leads them to become troubled adults. We should be willing to consider many different points of view and then craft a plan that at least attempts to consider changes in the ways that we presently do things. Some argue that we must have restrictions on who is able to migrate to our country in the interest of national safety, but those same people do not believe that we should also place restrictions on gun sales and ownership. There is a bit of disconnect in such logic that we must study. Perhaps there is a middle ground for both issues if only we have the willingness to begin a process of national healing. I’m not sure what it will take to convince us of the need to try, but I believe that it is what we must do.

Save a Place at the Table

Published on by Sharron BurnettLeave a comment

19399646_10214121200690836_1603070636057683650_nI have been fortunate in sharing friendships with some incredible individuals in my lifetime. Among them is Bill Weimer. Bill was born and raised in Detroit and lived there during the city’s glory days. His boyhood was spent in a dynamic atmosphere when his hometown seemed unstoppable. He reveled in the history of his neck of the woods and was a kind of Renaissance man with a sharp mind that eventually led him to the University of Michigan where he earned a degree in engineering. He became one of the young lions who pioneered advances in computing and ultimately was tapped to join the team of the world’s brightest minds at NASA in Houston.

Bill loved to travel and had an adventurous spirit that helped him to accept the challenge of leaving Detroit to travel south to face the unknown in a place about which he knew little. He packed his things into his car and drove the miles alone, learning a bit about all of the places through which he drove and filing away stories that would delight his listeners for years to come. He found a group of single young men wanting to save money by sharing expenses and moved into an apartment with the crew. They would become lifelong friends who walked together through good times and bad over the ensuing years, including going out together for weekend entertainment. On one of their ventures Bill met Patricia, a nurse and the woman that he would eventually marry.

Bill and Pat were a great couple. He was somewhat quiet and she was outgoing, but he always had a mischievous twinkle in his eyes. He charmed her with his intellect and his gentlemanly wisdom. He was a storyteller who always seemed to have an interesting tale to tell. Pat who was outstanding in her own right knew that she had found the man with whom she would enjoy the realization of all of her hopes and dreams. Together they settled down in Houston where they purchased a lovely home and began to build a family. Theirs was a wonderful life with a bright little boy and a beautiful daughter who shared the family intelligence. They opened their home to everyone and never seemed to forget a friend. Wherever they were was a happy place to be.

I met Bill Weimer through his wife Pat. It wasn’t long before my own husband Mike and I were spending long evenings with the two of them laughing and making pronouncements on the workings of the world. Bill had a profound way of approaching any subject and I often joked that he should host a talk show. It definitely would have been a cut above anything that has ever been seen, and I suspect that it would have been quite popular as well. He and Mike soon became great pals, enjoying each other’s company in every possible way.

I always looked forward to the times when Pat and Bill came to our home or we went to theirs. For a time we even had a tradition of spending New Years Eve together and those years became the best in all of my memories. We watched our children grow and shared milestone after milestone. We traveled to New Braunfels and New Orleans and felt as comfortable with each other as we might have been with siblings. Somehow we were the perfect fit together and I imagined how much fun we would have once we were all retired and able to do anything we wished with our time.

Pat and Bill eventually decided to move from the home that had been the scene of so much of their married life. They bought a new place in Pearland and urged us to follow suit. It wasn’t long before we were enticed to relocate and it was great fun to be only about five minutes away from them. By then we were quite comfortable with dropping in on each other without an invitation or an announcement. We had the best of times doing next to nothing other than being together.

Sadly Pat had a relapse of cancer and died not long after we had moved near them. Bill was devastated and lonely and sad. He often came to our house just to sit and talk. We never knew when the doorbell would ring and he would be standing there. At first he brought books and magazines for Mike as though he needed an excuse, but soon enough he understood that we loved his visits and he dropped all pretenses. He simply came and we welcomed him enthusiastically. After all he was not just a great friend who seemed like family, he was one of the best storytellers ever and conversations with him were always enchanting.

One day Bill showed up with a great big RV. His pride was apparent as he demonstrated every feature and boasted about the journeys that surely lay ahead. In the early days he invited us to tag along and I truly enjoyed our trips to Texas state parks. Mostly though it was good to see him feeling happy again and to detect that sly grin and mischievousness that was one of his most endearing traits. After a time he was going all over the country by himself save for the company of his cat, Miss Kitty. With each return he came to see us to report on the mishaps and fun that he had experienced. He made it all sound so wonderful that we eventually purchased a trailer of our own.

Mike and Bill exchanged stories and jokes via email and we also saw Bill at his daughter’s home when she invited us to birthday parties, Christmas celebrations and football afternoons. He was always a welcome sight whenever we saw him and as always he had so much to say. He’d tell us about a book he had read or a program he had watched and offer insights that were interesting. He was that strange combination of optimism and cynicism that made him a bit of an enigma but one certain thing is that he was always a very good man of integrity and honor. He was of the noble age when character was more important than money or possessions, and he was brimming with all of the right stuff.

During the big Houston area floods Bill and Mike kept in constant contact. We worried needlessly about each other because both of us did well, but it was still good to know that Bill was nearby if either of us had an emergency. Over the years he and Mike had often helped one another with this problem or that. They shared a mutual admiration for one another because in many ways they were so similar, both very bright men with hearts of gold. They both enjoyed a good joke and rolled their eyes at the state of politics.

Bill quietly did so many wonderful things. He worked for years at the convent at Villa de Matal helping the nuns to upgrade their information systems and histories on the computer. He traveled there once a week to provide them with his expertise and took great pride in being able to help them even though he was not a Catholic. He constantly checked on friends who were sick and took the time to visit them as often as possible. He kept himself busy with a routine that brought him new acquaintances and a sense of orderliness in his life. He had a standing breakfast order at McDonalds and walked each day at the local recreation center. He was a weekly visitor to the library and explored every side road in the area finding shortcuts to virtually any place. He loved his children and was rightfully proud of them.

Bill had grown a bit weary of late. He was plagued by a number of medical problems and many of his friends were either very sick or had died. He was facing the prospect of having to constrict his traveling days and maybe even give up his beloved RV. There was a resignation in him that we had not seen before. He often remarked that he had lived longer than anyone in his family ever had, something that seemed to both worry him and make him proud. Nonetheless he had seemed to be in fairly good shape and I imagined having many more fun filled years with him. Sadly and shockingly that was not to be. Bill Weimer died and joined his wife and many of his friends in heaven, leaving so many behind to mourn the loss of a truly great man.

There really are no words adequate to describe Bill Weimer. He was a tall lanky guy who was brilliant and funny and loving. He bettered the lives of every single person that he encountered. He had a way of making people feel special and he was always ready to stop whatever he might have been doing to sit down and just enjoy a few minutes together. His absence will indeed be felt most dearly.

Last spring Bill and his grandson Sean traveled to Michigan together. None of us thought that it would be his last hurrah but the signs were there. He became ill during the trip and had to go to an emergency room. Sean who is only a sixth grader had to speak for him and take on a role far beyond his years. He did not mind at all because he and his grandfather had bonded in a way as beautiful as the story in the movie A Trip to Bountiful. That adventure has left Sean with treasured memories that no doubt will sustain him for a lifetime. Like the rest of us he knows that his grandfather was an extraordinary man and a role model for the ages.

I’ve cried ugly tears and grieved for days now, not just for my loss but mostly for his children and grandchildren who really hoped to have more time with him. I know that there is now an emptiness that will be so hard for any of us to fill. It’s always that way with someone as wonderful as Bill Weimer. I can only hope that I will be able to comfort his family and that he is now celebrating a life well lived in heaven. He earned a saintly crown for certain and taught all of us how to grab for all the best that life has to offer. May he now rest in eternal peace and know that we truly and deeply loved him as the finest friend we might ever have hoped to have. Good night, Bill. You and Pat have lots of fun and save a place for us at thetable until we meet again.

The Last Lecture

Published on by Sharron BurnettLeave a comment

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I love to listen to the radio while I drive, but I prefer talk shows over music. I spent some time listening to conservative programs, but when I reached the point of becoming so angry that I considered shooting the bird to nobody in particular I realized that it was time to try something different. Of late I’ve been enjoying NPR where I’ve learned so many interesting and quirky things. Last week I heard about a professor at Sam Houston State University who’s offering a last lecture series. It’s based on the idea of providing one’s own elegy before death. The prof got the notion from an Oprah program that featured a guest who was dying of cancer who had given a powerful final lecture to his students. The incident was recorded and went viral after it was uploaded on YouTube. Now a number of teachers at Sam Houston are volunteering to give their own versions of final lessons for their students.

The format is interesting in that the speaker tells a brief history of his/her life and then gives advice on how to live a full and meaningful existence. Those who have agreed to lay bare their souls have found that they leave the experience feeling quite fulfilled. Their public self reflections are as helpful to them as to their listeners. They serve as reminders that we should cherish each breath that we take, and do our best to make each moment as meaningful as possible. We assume that we have miles to go before we travel down the rainbow highway, but we never really know when our time here on earth will end. It’s actually a challenging but freeing experience to look back on what we have accomplished and assess how well we have done.

The program made me wonder what I might say if I were given an opportunity to present a last lecture of sorts. What might I tell an audience that would make a difference or inspire? Where would I begin?

I’ve already written a memoir, but it focuses mostly on my mother and the trials that so defined her life. I suppose that like her my own story has a before and after all having to do with my father’s death. Literally everything in my world changed in an instant that was tragic but also hardly the end of my world. I learned that life takes twists and turns that seem impossible to overcome at the time, but in reality help us to grow and become stronger. In my own case it took a very long while for me to regain my footing. I was afraid and unsure of myself even with the amazing strength of mother to guide me. Ironically it was when I became responsible for her care after her first mental breakdown that I realized just how much courage I was capable of mustering. I was literally forced by circumstances to either sink or swim, and I chose to dog paddle my way through situations that once might have terrified me. There is strange twist in the fact that I learned how to be brave at a time when I was most afraid.

I always wanted to be a highly successful and accomplished woman, but I somehow believed that doing so meant that I needed to be rich and famous. I felt a bit ashamed that my biography was seemingly so ordinary. After all who really views a mom and a teacher as someone outstanding? I knew that I was never going to be honored as an exceptional graduate or have my name in a headline or on a marquee, but I have to admit that I made great choices that I would repeat again if I had the opportunity to live my life all over again. It felt good to quietly make a difference in my own children and my many students. There was great meaning in what I did from day to day and that has always been important to me.

If I were to share the advice that I deem to be the most important it would be to follow one’s heart. Life should be joyful, and if we are not feeling a burst of happiness and satisfaction in whatever we do, then maybe we are in the wrong place. Of course not every single day will ever be perfect, but there should at the very least be meaning and a sense of importance in whatever we choose to do. My advice for young people has been to find their passions and follow them. If they do so they will rarely go astray.

I have always attempted to be a woman of integrity. I have few secrets and most of those are things that I do not share in order to protect other people. Otherwise my life is an open book. I admit to my imperfections and do my best to improve them. I try not to judge or be self righteous. I honor and love people and accept and cherish differences. Doing so is the spice of life that makes each day more interesting. I try to be humble, but I am indeed proud of my family and my friends and the work I have done. I believe It gets one nowhere to brood over what is lacking rather than counting the blessings that are always there. Mostly I know that the key to a life well lived is found in the simple act of love. It is in giving of ourselves to the people around us that we become our very best. Being able to glance in the mirror and like what we see is a tremendous gift, but it takes hard work to achieve.

At the end of the day our possessions and our wealth mean so little. We can’t take anything with us, but we can leave behind legacies that continue to inspire long after we are gone. We never know what people will say about us as they gather to mourn but we always hope they will know and remember how much we truly cared. It is in sharing adventures and travels and learning and quiet moments that we are most likely to find our way into hearts. The best among us are always ready to listen or comfort or just laugh.

I recently answered a reference call for one of my former students. I haven’t seen him for quite some time, but when asked what kind of personality he has the words that came to my mind were sensitive and compassionate. I have forgotten his flaws and only recall his sweetness. That’s how we tend to be when someone has shown us kindness, and he always did. I suspect that every one of us would very much like to be remembered like that. I know I would.

A high school friend recently asked me what I would write about him if he were to die. He was curious to know what kind of man I perceive him to be. I was happy to be able to tell him what a positive impact he has had on this world. He possesses high principles and constantly strives to live up to the standards that he has developed as a guideline for living. He has done an excellent job in that regard so I have little doubt that if he were to deliver a last lecture it would be quite compelling just as I know he would want it to be.

It is said that each of us is forgotten within two generations, left to become dust blowing in the wind. It truly matters not whether or not we are remembered in the future, but it is important to be well regarded in the present. If we are careful to consider the needs of those that we encounter even if it only means smiling to make them feel happy, then we are on the right track. It doesn’t take much to find that little bit of heaven right here on earth so long as we simply celebrate ourselves and the people that we encounter along our way.