This is my second blog.

My first blog chronicled my experiences over three years caring for my dad as he lived through and finally died from Alzheimer's. That is the book that is for sale.

This second blog kind of chronicles of life, what it is like to start your life over in your late 50's. After caretaking, you are damaged, file bankruptcy, and the world doesn't care what you did. After 8 months of unemployment, you wake each day knowing the world doesn't want you. Finally you do find a job, 5 weeks before homelessness, but doing what you did 30 years ago and getting paid what you did 30 years ago. So this is starting over.

The object of life is not to be on the side of the majority, but to escape finding oneself in the ranks of the insane.

Saturday, June 7, 2014


Read an article today that made me smile.  The article warned swimmers about how cold Lake Michigan was and the dangers of swimming in the lake.

One spring in college, it got really warm in early May and a bunch of us from McGonigles Saloon headed to the beach; we went to the beach near the Cook or McCook nuke plant, thinking the water would be warmer there.

One of my best friends in life, we will call her, let's see, Ronnie, well we went out on this little pool raft just sharing it and kicking, resting, kicking, etc.  Dang was the water cold.  So we finally decided to head in but quickly discovered we were caught in a riptide and were nearly a mile off shore.  So we started in, not getting anywhere, and then I said let's head north until we felt a change in water temp.  By then she was on the raft and freezing so I kicked us into shore finally.

I think it took 4 hours of laying in the hot sun for my nuts to drop back down - I wonder if I told that story before, don't remember, age don't you know.

Ronnie was like a sister but what I remember most is when I first started working at McGonigles and one Monday night she called and invited me over and Ronny, another gal and I sat out on the balcony that evening just catching a buzz and chatting; why do I remember it?  Because she called and invited me over.

It is those little things, those little moments in life that we remember.  I will never forget the nurses aid, the day my dad was leaving the hospital, who gave me a hug.  Two people, for a moment in time our lives touched, and that hug meant the world to me.  Don't remember the name, don't really remember what she looked like, but I remember the hug.

Bad times I don't remember much.  Just those little moments that when you tell others probably won't make much sense, but then that is the point, those really important moments are when time stops, trains pass in the night, and then go away never to be again.

I don't remember anything about my high school prom, but I do remember the time the girl and I were just sitting in the forest preserves and she made me some stupid dandelion  necklace.

I often wonder, as I travel thru the world, what moments such as those have I provided those around me, friends or strangers passing.  Have I given anyone such a moment, a time when they think staring at the fire about the time…

But I guess that is the point of those moments, you just never know the memory you leave in passing.  And how rich those moments make a life.

 It's coming from so far away
It's hard to say for sure
Whether what I hear is music or the wind
Through an open door
There's a fire high in the empty sky
Where the sound meets the shore
There's a long distance loneliness
Rolling out over the desert floor

And the years that I spent lost in the mystery
Fall away leaving only the sound of the drum