Back in the early 80s I went to orchestra camp where one year I fell in love with a girl named Ginny.  It was the most true of a love a 14 year old could have.  After I returned home, I listened endlessly to Air Supply’s Greatest Hits.  The emotions the songs on that album stirred up spoke to me and called to my soul.  For a year, those melodies gave my life deeper meaning and even a higher calling.  The songs on that album helped me better define who I was. Continue reading Moments Frozen in Time →

Did you ever stop to consider how many days you actually have with those you care about?  Maggie and I met on June 14, 1999.  She died May 4, 2009.  3,612 days.  That’s not very many, really.  Way too few, in my humble opinion but hey, fate didn’t ask me.  Neither did The Cancer. Continue reading 3,612 Nice to See Yous →

My new emotional companions are what I’ve labeled rifle shots.  Much like a devastatingly accurate shot from deer rifle, these rifle shots strike suddenly, unexpectedly and with tremendous emotional lethality.  Unlike the emotional waves from previous months, these little bastards give no warning at all.  The old waves of fun times, uh, I mean, emotion would swell up like a tide or tsunami and drench everything in drab.  They were very overwhelming and could, if not carefully checked with acceptance and positive thoughts, drag me down quickly into a real mess.  In contrast, these new rifle shots come on suddenly, with nary a warning.  Think lightning bolt.  I’m trucking along like nothing sad has ever happened and then WHAM!  Tears are just flowing.   It’s bizarre, absolutely bizarre. Continue reading Emotional Sniper Shots →

It’d be ok with me if I could get off this ride.  You’d think by now it’d mostly be over, right?  No, I’m reminded daily how much more travel down this path I’ve got to still go.  The closet, or as I call, The Tomb of Lost Shoes and Purses, is a place I rarely go.  And, as anyone who has been to my house recently can attest, I’ve successfully transferred my clothes to the living room, shoes and all, obviating the need to visit The Tomb for anything other than a brief consult with the ironing board.  I haven’t even begun to think about starting to wonder what the heck I’m going to do with all the other stuff, like her mementoes and books and collection of fingernail polishes and makeup and year books and music CDs and wedding dress and Halloween costumes and girly things and…. The list just goes on and on.  Of course, that’s just one big piece of the party.  I get other pieces in the mail daily. Continue reading Hits Still Coming →