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Old tricks are still fascinating. This is Kenneth Heard's http://lovelifeapba.blogspot.no/

Across The Universe

Words are flowing out like endless rain into a paper cup
They slither wildly as they slip away across the universe
Pools of sorrow, waves of joy are drifting through my opened mind
Possessing and caressing me.........

....Images of broken light which dance before me like a million eyes
They call me on and on across the universe

Thoughts meander like a restless wind inside a letter box

They tumble blindly as they make their way across the universe

Jai Guru Deva OM....

.....Sounds of laughter, shades of life are ringing through my open ears
Inciting and inviting me
Limitless undying love which shines around me like a million suns
It calls me on and on, across the universe.....

John Lennon

Football And Scrambled Eggs

By Eddie Thompson

(A passionate college relationship is remembered by a lonely man with many regrets as he passes time one night in a bar.)

The smoke hung like suspended wisps frozen in rays of moonlight that trickled from the sky-port above the cavern door. He thought that he must be going crazy. There was no way that the lovely dark-haired woman sitting just outside the shadows at the table to his left was Linda. The resemblance was stunning, but it had been twenty years since he had watched, tears straining his view, as she had tossed the ring on the floor at his feet and stormed away. For a moment that feeling in the pit of his stomach that he had come to know enough times to call "gizzard grumblings" swept him back to Northwestern State University where he had first met the woman who had spawned such love in him that no other after her could hope to measure up. The woman in the dark blue dress, now laughing with her friends as a lonely saxophone lifted and fell, obscurely, in broken rhythms, was what he imagined Linda's mom may have looked like, twenty years ago.

"Fresh me up," he grumbled to the bartender who was cleaning glasses at the end of the bar. He turned away from the woman, but that only made it worse as the smooth sounds of her laughter intruded into his thoughts, coming from the angelic face of young Linda, college freshman, sharing a hotdog with him in front of the stadium after a game...or running from him across the library square as he followed in hot pursuit, swearing to tickle her mercilessly...or tossing wads of paper at him from across the room as he tried to concentrate on the new plays he had to learn for the big game.

Eric had been a high school All American from a small town in Louisiana. Being a big fish in a small pond had given him a false sense of security entering his freshman year. What had once come easy to him now was drudgery and hard work. Instead of slaps on the back and his name mingled with cheers that he had grown accustom to he learned the sting of scalding instructions from less than impressed coaches and the abasement of anonymity on the campus. More than once he had almost given up and probably would have if he had not met Linda. The awards and the glory would come soon enough with the emerging season. On the football field, Eric always found a way to make it to the top. It was at the other things in life, the daily existence, the relationships and responsibilities, where success usually seemed to elude him. Linda gave him enough balance to work his way though the game of life until he had made his mark on the football field, insuring himself of at least the benefit of any future doubts in the football crazed world of the South.

Eric would never forget the day he first noticed her. She was working at the cafeteria, and he figured he had never noticed her before because he and his buddies usually came in roaring about some thing or another, consumed with whatever it was that day that had taken their fancy. His friends walked through the campus with the confidence, almost cockiness, of a pride of young lions, fresh from the kill. Other students steered clear of them. Not so much out of fear but from a desire to remain as far as they could from the spotlight that seemed to follow college athletes at Northwestern State. Being a college freshman was task enough for the majority. Linda was not afraid of the spotlight at all. In fact, she had no experience with which to measure its intensity until she met Eric.

"No, no, no, missy," Eric put his hand over his plate."I don't want the scrambled eggs. I want the fried eggs."

Smiling through the glass that separated them on the bar, Linda laughed, "So you always have this much trouble making your mind up?"

"Huh?"

"Nevermind," Linda rolled her eyes.

"Hey," Eric was a little surprised by the reaction of the nice looking girl plopping eggs on his plate. "You better be careful. I know who you are, you know?" He had no idea who she was but had found himself at a lost for words.

"I'm so scared," she giggled.

He remembered standing there watching her laugh. Something inside of him awoke at that moment - something he had never really felt before. It was a feeling that would only grow in depth and intensity over the next few days as he would round the corner in the cafeteria each morning, looking for the egg person in the lunch line, hoping it would be her. He could not bring himself to talk to her at first. It wasn't that he did not want to. However, he was certain his friends would not look favorably upon him talking with a cafeteria worker. There was no written rule concerning such behavior. It was just something none of his friends ever did. He finally made an excuse to hang around the cafeteria one morning until Linda was finished working. He intended to find out more about this spunky girl.

Linda had taken the job at the cafeteria as part of the student work program at the university. She was working at the Cajun restaurant across the street from the campus in the afternoons. She hardly had time for studying at all with both jobs and a full load of classes. The jobs were necessary though. Linda was not ashamed to earn her own way; she had been doing it since she was old enough to appreciate the difference in having a new dress as opposed to hand-me-downs. Her father had left the family when she was young, and her mom had barely been able to make ends meet for the three children in her charge. There had been many occasions in her childhood when Linda had cried into her pillow about what some other kid had said in jest, mocking her apparel or economic status. Over the years, she had learned to remain unnoticed as much as possible to avoid the occurrence of an embarrassing episode. Out of sight, out of mind, out of the line of fire. That is why she surprised herself so much when she made fun of the big football player in the breakfast line. And now the big lug was leering at her each morning when he rounded the corner towards the line. Not that she was looking for him or anything. Lord knows the last thing she needed in her life right now was some guy who would require time and attention. He was kind of cute, though.

"Hello there!" Eric stepped into her path suddenly, almost causing her to stumble into him. He had waited until the cafeteria had closed for a chance to speak to her without having to answer questions anyone may have about it.

"Uh, hello," she muttered, holding out her hand to stop herself from crashing into him. She noticed his chest seem extremely hard for such a large man. "You should watch where you are going!"

"Yeah, right," he stammered, seeking for something intelligent to say. Something that would leave a lasting impression. "Uh...you like eggs, huh? Well, I don't mean you like them. You just serve them. I realize that. I'm not dumb, you know?"

"Oh, I did not realize that," she taunted. "Now if you will excuse me..."

"Wait!"

"Look, I am late for a class; so unless you are going to kidnap me and write a note for my professor, then I must hurry along," she pleaded. "What are you doing?"

He had taken out a pocket note pad and begun to scribble something down on it. "I'm writing a note for your professor," he smiled. She was not able to suppress the laugh that escaped from her parted lips. "See that now. That's such a nice laugh."

"That's such a nice laugh." The bartender interrupted Eric's thoughts, pointing to the woman's table. He tried to pretend he had no idea what the man was talking about. He shrugged as though uninterested in the woman who was sitting back comfortably, legs crossed, enjoying the company of her friends. If it was Linda, times had certainly changed for the both of them. Not that he didn't have any friends. Things just had not really gone his way since that day he watched his hopes and dreams disappear out of the library door into the blustery winter. It had all been so unnecessary. Thinking about it always made his brow furrow and his heart melt.

They spent the most incredible year together. She gave him the support and courage to make it through the hard times before his exploits on the football field gave him the edge he was used to. He wanted to believe he had helped her through those first months of insecurity as she struggled to find her niche at the university. It became a great adventure with their love as the anchor in the many storms that crashed against them as they took their first baby steps to find their way in this world. He convinced himself that their love had been special. It was the first time in his life he felt that someone believed in him for being a human being and not an athlete. That feeling of being understood, accepted, validated, changed his life forever. He felt that she loved him like he loved her. That every time they touched she soared as he did. That every time they kissed her heart pounded, head spun, and soul danced, making everything seem possible. Surely she loved him like he loved her. Yet how easy it was for her to leave without ever turning back. How quickly she had permanently solved a very temporary problem. He did not blame her though. The betrayal had been complete.

They were studying together in the library. He never really got much studying done there when she needed to do some research for her term paper. He would rather have been down by the river. Cane River cut a lazy little path through the campus and offered plenty of shelter for the hearts of lovers on its banks. Eric sometimes felt uncomfortable in the library. He did not have the freedom there to reach out and take her hand, or play with a strand of her hair between his fingers and thumb, or whisper into her ear the wonderful things she made him feel. Once in a while he would try, but she would cut him a stern look as if to say "not here you beast." It was one of his favorite looks.

He was sitting across from her one day, watching her study, when a disruption occurred behind him. He turned to see his pals from the team pouring through the library to where he was sitting. He sat up suddenly, feeling a bit awkward.

"Eric, pretending to study again, eh?" It was Vance, a friend who had come with him from high school to attend Northwestern. "The guys are heading out to Kappa Sig house for a little fun. We been looking for you. Come on, man!"

The restlessness of the guys caused Eric to stand to his feet. He could tell by the look on Linda's face that she would rather that he stay. She would not have been upset had he gone, but she was looking forward to spending some quality time with him after all this hard work in the library. But fate took matters out of their hands.

"Come on Eric. What you all whipped or something?" One of the guys chuckled. Eric just laughed. It was a common taunt among the guys without girlfriends to torment the ones who did; but Eric was not ready for what was said next.

"You gonna stay here with scrambled eggs or come with us?"

Eric was looking at Linda when the question had been asked. It stung her. There was no doubt about it. He really had no way of knowing just how much. In a way, Linda imagined Eric's friends acceppted her during the year of their relationship. She had never felt that way before in her whole life. Like she fit in. Eric had given her the confidence to believe in herself. Being poor did not have to mean she had to be left out of life. Suddenly the facade of acceptance she felt began to crumble.

"Shut up, Terrance!" It was Vance speaking up. Linda wished those words had come from Eric.

"What's the deal here," Terrance quipped. "Are we gonna go or not? I'm not gonna stick around here all night waiting for loverboy to decide what he's gonna do."

Vance looked at him. "You coming or not, man?"

Eric knew in his heart that he should stay. But he felt challenged by Terrance. He looked at Linda's pleading eyes, but could not force himself to stay. He did not want the guys to think he was some sort of whipped puppy. He wanted to think that the fact she was a cafeteria worker, poor, and unpopular played no part in his decision. Linda was not like the girlfriends of most of the players. She was no cheerleader or socialite. He always wondered what the fellows thought of that. Not that it would ever have influenced him in any way.

"Eric, make up your mind," Linda said. "I've got work to do and these guys have fun to get to." That he just stood there looking so confused cut her to her core.

Looking at the guys, he blurted, "Don't worry bout it, baby. I can make up my own mind. I ain't on a chain here, you know?" A couple of the guys chuckled. Motivated by their laughter he continued, "You do your little work. Maybe I'll check back in with you later, doll."

Her heart collapsed. It was as though her anchor had been cut, and she was rolling with the seas. The entire year meant nothing. She was that poor little child again, crying in her pillow because the kids could not see the beauty she hoped was inside . If he could spend all this time with her, be so intimate with her, see the very soul of her and still not know her worth, perhaps she had none afterall. None of the things ever done to her before had hurt like this. She had never let any of those other people bother her. She had not opened up, given herself to them, embraced their thoughts as she had Eric's. The moment was death for her. Death of a joy she had never experienced before. Death of a world she had constructed where she was not the pitiful lowlife from the wrong side of the tracks. Death of hope. She took off the ring he had given her on her birthday. Until that day, it had been the most expensive thing she had ever owned. She tossed it at his feet as she stood up, leaving her books, and walked right out the library door and to her room where she called her mom and cried for her to come and take her back to Beaumont.

"Stop! Wait up!" He had finally managed to yell as she walked out the door, too late for her to hear him. He would never forgive himself for not following her and apologizing right then. For letting the errant words of a few jerks cost him the most precious treasure he had ever run across in his life. "Stop! Wait up!" He heard himself say again.

"Yo, Mac, You OK?" The bartender was looking at him with concern. "Maybe you should lower your voice a bit. You're attracting attention." Eric felt himself turning red as the realization hit him that he had shouted those words aloud. Many in the bar were gazing at him in confusion. He glanced at the woman's table. They had not seemed to notice.

"Gimme another shot and a beer," Eric waved the bartender off with a slight move of his hand. "Was just thinking of something, is all." The bell on the door broke the silence and the patrons slowly begin to drift back into their conversations. If that woman wasn't Linda, she was dang sure kin to her somehow. He considered just walking over there and asking. What did he have to lose? If it wasn't her he would simply make his excuses and go back to the apartment he had been living in since his divorce five years ago. Five years! Was it already that long? But if it was her. What then? Surely there was no expectation that she would drop everything and come running back into his life. What would he gain from meeting her again? He had nothing to offer her. He had been laid off from his job at the plant with the recent downsizing that was going on. It was a shame that stardom on a football field fades as fast as a paycheck these days. How many times he wished he would have continued to pursue his degree, but without Linda to prod him that was never a concern at the time. He desperately wanted to go to her and tell her he had been wrong. He had been an idiot to let those guys influence him to act the way he did. To steal from her the dignity she had struggled to gain. He wanted to make things right. At least he could apologize and perhaps get some closure in his own life. But looking at her now. How happy she seemed. How care-free and confident. It suddenly occurred to him that the tables had turned in their lives. Now she was the one attracting the spotlight. He was the one struggling in the darkness. It was not until that moment that the full impact of what he had done twenty years ago enveloped him, like a sheet covering a dead body. He felt very sick.

The evening thinned the crowd in the small lounge as Eric stared at the flashing budweiser sign behind the bar, his back to the woman who may or may not have been the one who may or may not have been his only shot at happiness. The voices around him faded into muffled waves that mixed with the soft music and washed over him like an ocean along a lonely beach. The drinks and the bitterness mingled inside him to drown his mind in despair. Perhaps he had just built up this relationship in his head over the years as a shelter from the failures and heartaches he experienced. Just the idea that a person like Linda could exist had gotten him through more than one crises. Someone so sweet, so lovely, so insightful, so moving, so...so...perfect! But maybe she didn't really exist. Not the way he thought he remembered her. Could anybody ever really be so perfect? And even if she did, it was so long ago. She would not even remember him as anything but a bad taste in her mouth anyway.

As these thoughts flooded his mind, the group at the table near the shadows to his left stood to make an exit. He turned to get a better view. Ties were straightened; hair was brushed; wallets were opening. This would be his last chance. He knew it. Last chance for what? He did not know the answer to that, but if he was ever to reconnect with her in any way, as a lover, friend, or human being righting a distant wrong, he was going to have to approach her now. Eric did not rise to stop her. He did not shout for her to wait as he had done twenty years ago. In fact, for a brief instant her eyes caught his, and in that instant, he knew that even if it was Linda - for certain - he would not have the heart to bring the tragedy that was his life to what was obviously a very fulfilled life for her. In that moment, it dawned on him that the path he had taken had brought him to the doorsteps of dejection, and if she had remained with him, it was entirely possible that she would be little more than company in his house of misery. That thought - that he could have ruined her life as well as his - froze him to his stool. Would the riches and notoriety he leaned on as a youth have made her as poor as he, or would the lack and struggle she experienced made him as rich as her? It was a question, like so many in his life, that he figured would just go unanswered. As the bartender saw to the bill at that table, Eric turned back to his flashing sign for solace. He listened to the bell on the door sound the ending of a hope that had sustained him all these years. As the happy group filed out into the blustery winter night, He closed his eyes and gave himself over to his gizzard.

"Mac...Mac!"

"The name is Eric," he opened his eyes, a bit aggravated.

"Eric. Sorry bout that Ma..uh...Eric," the bartender paused. "That woman. You know, the one with the laugh sitting over near the exit?"

"Yes," he answered.

"She told me to give you a message."

Eric's ears stood straight up! The blood was already rushing to his face. "What was it," he managed.

"She said it would make sense to you. Hmmm, let me see...something like, 'ask him if he's made up his mind yet, scrambled or not?'" he shrugged.

In one motion Eric pulled his wallet and layed twenty dollars on the table. In two steps he was bursting through the door, the wind slapping him in the face as he scanned from left to right on the sidewalk. She was standing right next to him, at the door.

"Hey football," she smiled.

"Hey scrambled eggs," he heard himself say.

Beautiful lies.

Recently I have been confronted with third hand “updates” on people I know well, and who I don’t recognize in the tales told. It’s been like a déjà vu from when we were kids and played the whispering game. You know: the game where we sit in a circle or a row and the first person whisper something in the next person’s ear and the word or sentence travels down the row to the last person who say it out loud. Kids find it very amusing how the statement was changed when the first person tells what he or she actually said.

It is funny when you are a kid and it is all very innocent. Not so much when you are an adult, and life is not all that innocent anymore. At the end of the day it’s not what we have which defines us, but who we are. And who we are is basically what is said about us. Intimidating but never the less true… I think.

I don’t lie. It’s not that I don’t appreciate a convenient white lie, but I am too distracted to remember what I said last, and having firsthand experience with how painful corners I paint myself in can be, I avoid them. BUT, if anyone by chance should tell me I am beautiful, I know I am not but that doesn’t prevent me from shining for a brief moment.

The truth, however, can be hurtful. Self-deception is probably the most comforting state we can lull ourselves into. It usually doesn’t hurt anyone else than ourselves either. We just live in a bubble of being content with the state of things, believing we have no problems or issues, until the truth hits.

Truth can hit you hard, and yet there is a distinct beauty in truth, even if it's painful. Budda stated that “Three things cannot be long hidden: the sun, the moon, and the truth”. As we go about our daily life living by our standards it will be noticed and false words attacking our integrity will eventually be corrected. Like a law of nature, but we shouldn’t have to deal with it.

When people tell you what you want to hear, nothing productive comes out of it, nothing except the fact you feel good about yourself. But when you act on what you know you risk making a fool out of yourself, which is humiliating as well as hurtful to others. Now, being hurt or offended or humiliated doesn’t really do anything. There are no consequences to that, other than you feel it. But feelings are true too; when I am sad that is real. Noone else is affected by it, unless they have compassion, but the sadness is my own.

It is probably a harsh thing to say, but hypocrites very often get offended by the truth.
You inflict negativity on others by what you say, when you lie. Personally I think that is bad karma. It’s a lot like rumors: no one will challenge you to your face or give you a chance to explain yourself. Only time does that for you.  All the whispers are behind your back. You are left with no means of clearing your own name. You are certain to be the last person to know. And after a while you realize there is no point in even attempting to do so. People don’t want the truth. All anyone wants is the chance to add more fuel to the fires of gossip. After all: it’s gossip! You can add and subtract just about anything you want, because it’s gossip and we don’t really expect the rumour-monger to be held accountable. There really isn’t anything good to say about gossip, other than it has a blissful tendency to backfire.
 People who lie, twist life so that it looks tasty to the lazy, brilliant to the ignorant, and powerful to the weak. But lies only strengthen our defects. It doesn’t teach anything, help anything, fix anything or cure anything. Nor do they develop one's character, one's mind, one's heart or one's soul. It only creates confusion.

Sometimes it is easier to see clearly into the liar than into the man who tells the truth. Truth, like light, blinds. Falsehood, on the contrary, is a beautiful twilight that enhances every object.

I want to... untitled poem

I don't know who wrote this, but if I knew how to write a poem, and had a way with words, this is what I would have written:

The Generous Gift of a Glass of Milk that Ended up Paying for Medical Care -Truth!

This story has been circulating on social medias for quite some time now. Still beautiful. It should tell us that there is no reason to hold back kindness untill you think you can offer real help; preferably big time!  As is often the case, someone has fictionalized the details of this story and gotten some of it wrong, but it is essentially a true event.

A real example of the story as it has been circulated: One day, a poor boy who was selling goods from door to door to pay his way through school, found he had only one thin dime left, and he was hungry. He decided he would ask for a meal at the next house. However, he lost his nerve when a lovely young woman opened the door. Instead of a meal he asked for a drink of water. She thought he looked hungry so brought him a large glass of milk. He drank it slowly, and then asked, "How much do I owe you?" "You don't owe me anything," she replied. "Mother has taught us never to accept pay for a kindness." He said..... "Then I thank you from my heart." As Howard Kelly left that house, he not only felt stronger physically, but his faith in God and man was strong also. He had been ready to give up and quit. Year's later that young woman became critically ill. The local doctors were baffled. They finally sent her to the big city, where they called in specialists to study her rare disease. Dr. Howard Kelly ! was called in for the consultation. When he heard the name of the town she came from, a strange light filled his eyes. Immediately he rose and went down the hall of the hospital to room. Dressed in his doctor's gown he went in to see her. He recognized her at once. He went back to the consultation room determined to do his best to save her life. From that day he gave special attention to the case. After a long struggle, the battle was won. Dr. Kelly requested the business office to pass the final bill to him for approval. He looked at it, then wrote something on the edge and the bill was sent to her room. She feared to open it, for she was sure it would take the rest of her life to pay for it all. Finally she looked, and something caught her attention on the side of the bill. She read these words..... "Paid in full with one glass of milk" Signed Dr. Howard Kelly. Tears of joy flooded her eyes as her happy heart prayed: "Thank You, God, that Your love has spread abroad through human hearts and hands."

The Truth:   Dr. Howard Kelly was a distinguished physician who, in 1895, founded the Johns Hopkins Division of Gynecologic Oncology at Johns Hopkins University.  According to Dr. Kelly's biographer, Audrey Davis, the doctor was on a walking trip through Northern Pennsylvania one spring day when he stopped by a farm house for a drink of water.  A little girl answered his knock at the door and instead of water, brought him a glass of fresh milk.  He visited with her briefly, then went his way.   Sometime after that, the little girl came to him as a patient and needed surgery.  After the surgery, the bill was brought to her room and on it were the words, "Paid in full with one glass of milk." www.Truthorfiction.com  thanks Andrew Harrison, the Processing Archivist and Fine Arts Coordinator for the Johns Hopkins Medical Institutions, for help with this story.  Posted 7/6/07 http://www.truthorfiction.com/rumors/o/oneglassofmilk.htm#.Uys0bvl5NLA

Burned Biscuits – A lesson we all should learn.

I have not found the origin to this story, which is a pity, cause even though I steal a wise word here and there, I like to give credit to those who deserve it. This is...

A must read….

When I was a kid, my Mom liked to make breakfast food for dinner every now and then. I remember one night in particular when she had made breakfast after a long, hard day at work. On that evening so long ago, my Mom placed a plate of eggs, sausage and extremely burned biscuits in front of my dad. I remember waiting to see if anyone noticed!

All my dad did was reach for his biscuit, smile at my Mom and ask me how my day was at school. I don’t remember what I told him that night, but I do remember watching him smear butter and jelly on that ugly burned biscuit. He ate every bite of that thing…never made a face nor uttered a word about it!

When I got up from the table that evening, I remember hearing my Mom apologize to my dad for burning the biscuits. And I’ll never forget what he said, “Honey, I love burned biscuits every now and then.”

Later that night, I went to kiss Daddy good night and I asked him if he really liked his biscuits burned. He wrapped me in his arms and said, “Your Mom put in a hard day at work today and she’s real tired. And besides–a little burned biscuit never hurt anyone!”

As I’ve grown older, I’ve thought about that many times. Life is full of imperfect things and imperfect people.

I’m not the best at hardly anything, and I forget birthdays and anniversaries just like everyone else. But what I’ve learned over the years is that learning to accept each other’s faults and choosing to celebrate each other’s differences is one of the most important keys to creating a healthy, growing, and lasting relationship.

And that’s my prayer for you today…that you will learn to take the good, the bad, and the ugly parts of your life and lay them at the feet of God. Because in the end, He’s the only One who will be able to give you a relationship where a burnt biscuit isn’t a deal-breaker!

We could extend this to any relationship. In fact, understanding is the base of any relationship, be it a husband-wife or parent-child or friendship!

“Don’t put the key to your happiness in someone else’s pocket–keep it in your own.”

So, please pass me a biscuit, and yes, the burned one will do just fine.

I Wish You Enough by Bob Perks

The Story

Bob wrote this story after watching a father and daughter say goodbye at an airport. Although the story resonates in the hearts of millions who have had to face similar such moments in their lives, the true message in this story comes in the "Seven Wishes." With permission from the author, those words have been read at graduations, weddings, funerals, awards ceremonies and even engraved on a grave stone.

 

"I Wish You Enough!" ©By Bob Perks

 I never really thought that I'd spend as much time in airports as I do. I don't know why. I always wanted to be famous and that would mean lots of travel. But I'm not famous, yet I do see more than my share of airports.

I love them and I hate them. I love them because of the people I get to watch. But they are also the same reason why I hate airports. It all comes down to "hello" and "goodbye. "I must have mentioned this a few times while writing my stories for you.

I have great difficulties with saying goodbye. Even as I write this I am experiencing that pounding sensation in my heart. If I am watching such a scene in a movie I am affected so much that I need to sit up and take a few deep breaths. So when faced with a challenge in my life I have been known to go to our local airport and watch people say goodbye. I figure nothing that is happening to me at the time could be as bad as having to say goodbye.

Watching people cling to each other, crying, and holding each other in that last embrace makes me appreciate what I have even more. Seeing them finally pull apart, extending their arms until the tips of their fingers are the last to let go, is an image that stays forefront in my mind throughout the day.

On one of my recent business trips, when I arrived at the counter to check in, the woman said, "How are you today?" I replied, "I am missing my wife already and I haven't even said goodbye."

She then looked at my ticket and began to ask, "How long will you...Oh, my God. You will only be gone three days!" We all laughed. My problem was I still had to say goodbye.

But I learn from goodbye moments, too.

Recently I overheard a father and daughter in their last moments together.

They had announced her departure and standing near the security gate, they hugged and he said, "I love you. I wish you enough." She in turn said,

"Daddy, our life together has been more than enough. Your love is all I ever needed. I wish you enough, too, Daddy."

They kissed and she left. He walked over toward the window where I was seated. Standing there I could see he wanted and needed to cry. I tried not to intrude on his privacy, but he welcomed me in by asking, "Did you ever say goodbye to someone knowing it would be forever?"

"Yes, I have," I replied. Saying that brought back memories I had of expressing my love and appreciation for all my Dad had done for me.

Recognizing that his days were limited, I took the time to tell him face to face how much he meant to me.

So I knew what this man experiencing.

"Forgive me for asking, but why is this a forever goodbye?" I asked.

"I am old and she lives much too far away. I have challenges ahead and the reality is, the next trip back would be for my funeral," he said.

"When you were saying goodbye I heard you say, "I wish you enough." May I ask what that means?"

He began to smile. "That's a wish that has been handed down from other generations. My parents used to say it to everyone." He paused for a moment and looking up as if trying to remember it in detail, he smiled even more. "When we said 'I wish you enough,' we were wanting the other person to have a life filled with just enough good things to sustain them," he continued and then turning toward me he shared the following as if he were reciting it from memory.

"I wish you enough sun to keep your attitude bright.
I wish you enough rain to appreciate the sun more.
I wish you enough happiness to keep your spirit alive.
I wish you enough pain so that the smallest joys in life appear much
bigger.
I wish you enough gain to satisfy your wanting.
I wish you enough loss to appreciate all that you possess.
I wish enough "Hello's" to get you through the final "Goodbye."

He then began to sob and walked away.

My friends, I wish you enough!
 

Lessons Life Taught Me by Regina Brett

Written by Regina Brett, 90 years old, of The Plain Dealer, Cleveland, Ohio

"To celebrate growing older, I once wrote the 45 lessons life taught me. It is the most-requested column I've ever written.

My odometer rolled over to 90 in August, so here is the column once more:
 

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1. Life isn't fair, but it's still good.
2. When in doubt, just take the next small step.
3. Life is too short to waste time hating anyone.
4. Your job won't take care of you when you are sick. Your friends and parents will. Stay in touch.
5. Pay off your credit cards every month.
6. You don't have to win every argument. Agree to disagree.
7. Cry with someone. It's more healing than crying alone.
8. It's OK to get angry.
9. Save for retirement starting with your first paycheck.
10. When it comes to chocolate, resistance is futile.
11. Make peace with your past so it won't screw up the present.
12. It's OK to let your children see you cry.
13. Don't compare your life to others. You have no idea what their journey is all about.
14. If a relationship has to be a secret, you shouldn't be in it.
15. Everything can change in the blink of an eye. But don't worry; God never blinks.
16. Take a deep breath. It calms the mind.
17. Get rid of anything that isn't useful, beautiful or joyful.
18. Whatever doesn't kill you really does make you stronger.
19. It's never too late to have a happy childhood. But the second one is up to you and no one else.
20. When it comes to going after what you love in life, don't take no for an answer.
21. Burn the candles, use the nice sheets, wear the fancy lingerie. Don't save it for a special occasion. Today is special.
22. Over prepare, then go with the flow.
23. Be eccentric now. Don't wait for old age to wear purple.
24. The most important sex organ is the brain.
25. No one is in charge of your happiness but you.
26. Frame every so-called disaster with these words 'In five years, will this matter?'
27. Always choose life.
28. Forgive everyone everything.
29. What other people think of you is none of your business.
30. Time heals almost everything. Give time some time.
31. However good or bad a situation is, it will change.
32. Don't take yourself so seriously. No one else does.
33. Believe in miracles.
34. God loves you because of who God is, not because of anything you did or didn't do.
35. Don't audit life. Show up and make the most of it now.
36. Growing old beats the alternative — dying young.
37. Your children get only one childhood.
38. All that truly matters in the end is that you loved.
39. Get outside every day. Miracles are waiting everywhere.
40. If we all threw our problems in a pile and saw everyone else's, we'd grab ours back.
41. Envy is a waste of time. You already have all you need.
42. The best is yet to come.
43. No matter how you feel, get up, dress up and show up.  

44. Yield.
45. Life isn't tied with a bow, but it's still a gift.

Regina Brett is a long-time columnist for Ohio newspapers (including the Akron Beacon Journal and the Cleveland Plain Dealer) who was a Pulitzer Prize finalist in 2009 for "her range of compelling columns that move the heart, challenge authority and often trigger action while giving readers deeper insight into life's challenges."

Ms. Brett is also the compiler of the above-quoted list of "life lessons," which was originally published in the Plain Dealer and has since become "the single most popular column ever written by Regina."

Contrary to the Internet-circulated version of Ms. Brett's list, however, she is not 90 years old. Regina Brett turned 50 years old in 2006, and on that occasion she updated her list of "45 life lessons" with an additional "5 to grow on." In a June 2009 blog entry, 53-year-old Regina Brett wrote about the Internet-created misperception that she is 90.

9 Phrases Women Use

(1) Fine :

This is the word women use to end an argument when they are right and you need to shut up.

(2) Five Minutes:

If she is getting dressed, this means a half an hour. Five minutes is only five minutes if you have just been given five more minutes to watch the game before helping around the house. ...

(3) Nothing :

This is the calm before the storm. This means something, and you should be on your toes. Arguments that begin with nothing usually end in fine.

(4) Go Ahead:

This is a dare, not permission. Don't Do It!

(5) Loud Sigh:

This is actually a word, but is a non-verbal statement often misunderstood by men. A loud sigh means she thinks you are an idiot and wonders why she is wasting her time standing here and arguing with you about nothing. (Refer back to # 3 for the meaning of nothing.)

(6) That's Okay:

This is one of the most dangerous statements a women can make to a man. That's okay means she wants to think long and hard before deciding how and when you will pay for your mistake.

(7) Thanks:

A woman is thanking you, do not question, or faint. Just say you're welcome. (I want to add in a clause here - This is true, unless she says 'Thanks a lot' - that is PURE sarcasm and she is not thanking you at all. DO NOT say 'you're welcome' . that will bring on a 'whatever'.

(8) Whatever:

Is a woman's way of saying GET LOST!

(9) Don't worry about it, I got it:

Another dangerous statement, meaning this is something that a woman has told a man to do several times, but is now doing it herself. This will later result in a man asking 'What's wrong?' For the woman's response refer to # 3.

This is (supposedly) the original.