If only we could see our lives from the end. Looking backward, I imagine we would take advantage of our time to live deliberately. Would I worry about the same things? What actions would I take to change things...if I change anything at all? And then I wonder what would I tell you from this imaginary death bed? What picture did I paint with the gift of life? Did I join the stylishly disheartened majority? Maybe I went my own way. I wonder if anything ever really changed for me..I mean do I struggle with the same themes in my life...until it is over? Well, allow me to use my imagination as I try to see the life I really want from the perspective of the dying process.

"He was a really good dad." "I mean he always made me laugh and I always knew that he loved me." My daughter speaks with anticipating grief in her voice. "I am going to miss him and I am sad but I also know that I am just like him." "His determination and wit...these are things I inherited from him."

"He inspired me to change...challenged me to really look at myself and deal with whatever controlled me. If there was one thing I know he valued it was being free. He HATED to be controlled. He would challenge anything in his life that attempted to circumvent his free will. I loved that about him...and I love that about me. I remember he took me to the grand canyon when I was 12 or 13 and said "this is what freedom looks like". He said "we are at the bottom but we keep walking until we are at the top." "Don't think about how far away it is...just take the next step" We did manage to climb back out. I was red as the rocks underneath our feet...it was a valuable lesson about sunblock as well.

"He taught me to trust in my gifts. Writing is a classic target for jokes about being a starving artist, but he said your best investment is YOU. In other words, believe in what you have and make it as good as you can and trust that process. There is a reason that you have a talent....and it is not up to us to know, but it IS up to us to use. I flailed around for a long time and thought about giving up, but I stuck it out and now I write."

"I loved that he was always young. Even when he was old you get the sense that he remained a young man. I loved that he nurtured his garden the same way he nurtured me. He wouldn't stop the weeds but he WOULD make sure that the right things grew. He intervened just enough.

Now, stepping out of my fantasy I can say these are things I hope for. I see there are elements that are true about me and I am in the process of applying, what I believe to be my real nature, to the challenges I face. But, right now, I have felt so depressed that nothing I WAS doing holds the same interest. I sleep a lot. I don't feel motivated and I don't trust my body.. I feel a little lost. I was running and had all of that camaraderie and support. I don't right now. The YMCA is still there but I don't go as much...I just don't seem to have it in me. I am afraid of having another heart attack...I miss my OWN parents so much I physically ache sometimes. And I just wish it was all the way it was... I wish I could feel good again. But I guess this is the ride. How to dig out of this hole I am not sure but I know I can't stay. Work is slow and I have too much time to think... I guess my "daughter" is right. Do the next right thing. I just want it all back...

Thanks for reading I am trying to figure this out and I always appreciate your support..

On a positive, I had a great food day...shooting for another tomorrow.

Roy