Let Me Die Laughing

Today my boss shared an experience he had last night. While taking his sister to Amtrax late last night, they noticed a man who seemed a little anxious. He was by himself, appeared disheveled, had no luggage and seemed to be waiting for the train.

When the train arrived, he approached the platform of the train and in a brief moment with no one watching, he jumped between two of the trains cars and died.

What was this man's story? What caused him to commit suicide? Despair? Depression? Mental illness? Loneliness?

I recently read a poem called "Let Me Die Laughing" by Mark Morrison-Reed

"We are all dying, our lives always moving toward completion.
We need to learn to live with death, and to understand that death is not the worst of all events.
We need to fear not death, but life-
Empty lives,
Loveless lives,
Lives that do not build upon the gifts that each of us has been given.
Lives that are like living deaths.
Lives which we never take the time to savor and appreciate.
Lives in which we never pause to breathe deeply.
What we need to fear is not death, but squandering the lives we have been miraculously given.
So let me die laughing, savoring life's crazy moments. Let me die holding the hand of the one I love, and recalling that I did what I could. But today, just remind me that I am dying, so that I can live, savor and love with all my heart."

Life is a gift! Live with intention & purpose. Make a difference. Give of yourself. Make sure those who mean the most to you, know you love them because you say it and show it. Don't get lost or distracted by things that just don't matter.

I continue to be inspired by Jason - his appreciation for the life that he has, his family & friends and his determination to live his life the very best he can. Jason, may our Heavenly Father's love continue to radiate from you & your beautiful wife Steph!

90/10 Principle by Stephen Covey

Change

The gospel of Jesus Christ challenges us to change. “Repent” is its most frequent message, and repenting means giving up all of our practices—personal, family, ethnic, and national—that are contrary to the commandments of God. The purpose of the gospel is to transform common creatures into celestial citizens, and that requires change. - Dallin H Oaks “Repentance and Change,” Liahona, Nov 2003

Spreading Light

There are two ways of spreading light —
to be the candle or the mirror that reflects it.

-Edith Wharton

"I can do something."

"I am only one; but still I am one.

I cannot do everything, but still I can do something;

I will not refuse to do the something I can do."

Helen Keller

Helen Keller was born on June 27, 1880 in Tuscumbia, Alabama. She had two half brothers, a sister and a dog. Her father was a storyteller, who loved his family very much. Helen was close to her mother and needed her for almost everything. As a small child, she started running a very high fever. She became very sick leaving her blind and deaf.

When she was six years old, her father took her to Washington D.C., where she was examined by Dr. Alexander Graham Bell who helped the deaf communicate. Bell told Keller's father to write to Perkins Institution for the Blind, so that they could send a teacher who would teach his daughter. The school sent a teacher named Ann Sullivan. Miss Sullivan was very patient and taught her to read Braille. She took Keller to the Horace Mann School for the deaf and there Helen learned to speak English, French, and German. She also went to Wright-Hunason School and Cambridge for Young Ladies. In addition, she went to Radcliff College, and graduated with honors.

Miss Sullivan helped Helen throughout most of her life, and they remained good friends.
Helen was important because she helped the blind and deaf people all over the world. She raised money for the American foundation for the blind. She visited many countries and wrote many books. Helen Keller died at the age of eighty-eight, at her home in Connecticut.
Helen Keller was an inspiration to all the blind and deaf people over the world. Her writings showed her interest in the beauty of things, taken for granted by those who can see and hear.

Finding Joy in the Journey

Throughout our lives, we must deal with change. Some changes are welcome; some are not. There are changes in our lives which are sudden, such as the unexpected passing of a loved one, an unforeseen illness, the loss of a possession we treasure. But most of the changes take place subtly and slowly.

This is our one and only chance at mortal life—here and now. The longer we live, the greater is our realization that it is brief. Opportunities come, and then they are gone. I believe that among the greatest lessons we are to learn in this short sojourn upon the earth are lessons that help us distinguish between what is important and what is not. I plead with you not to let those most important things pass you by as you plan for that illusive and nonexistent future when you will have time to do all that you want to do. Instead, find joy in the journey—now.

President Thomas S. Monson

President/Prophet of LDS Church

November 2008 Ensign

Body & Soul

On February 13th, Jason wrote "My soul, inside of me, is forever grateful for the chance to 'come back' and live a life. My physical body, the vehicle that I'm traveling around in, doesn't always work the way that I'd like it to, but in no way is it 'who I am'."

I really appreciated Jason's keen perspective on our body and soul (or spirit). For most of us, they work in unison. I think it's something those of us who are healthy, take seriously for granted. What an incredible gift and blessing to have our body do what our spirit desires?

When I read this, my thoughts turned to my cousin Carole. Carole Ann Glover was born on April 30, 1941. She was a beautiful young woman with hopes & dreams for her future.

On May 22, 1957, Carole (age 16) and 5 of her friends were out for a pleasure ride on the last day of school. Their car spun out of control and rammed a bridge abutment. All six girls were thrown from the vehicle. One of the passengers, a 15 year old girl, was killed and the other five were injured, three of them seriously. The car virtually disintegrated after hitting the bridge. Both Carole & her friend, who died upon impact, were passengers in the back seat. The young driver of the vehicle, was treated and released.

Carole spent the following 9 months of her life in a coma. She suffered some brain damage that severely impaired her physically, but not mentally. She would eventually be able to communicate to her family that she could remember virtually all the events that happened prior to her accident, with the exception of one year. Her spirit became imprisoned in her damaged body.

After returning home to the care of her parents, she remained in a semi-comatose state for several more months. Over time, with the help of physical therapy, family & friends and the never ending love & devotion of her mother, Wanda, she eventually relearned how to feed herself, communicate verbally (although it was difficult for most of us to understand), and knit beautiful afghans. She spent the rest of her life in a wheelchair.

Carole was blessed with a special ability to inspire & bless others. She had a wonderful attitude, sunny disposition, a great sense of humor and a beautiful smile. She was always appreciative of things done for her and those who visited. Although it was difficult to speak, Carole always said "please" and "thank you". Carole endured to the end and was valiant in building a beautiful monument of her life.

Carole's spirit was finally freed from her body on May 28, 1995 at the age of 54 due to kidney failure.

Carole was a living example to me through my teen years of the importance of driving safely. I shared Carole's story, pictures and newspaper articles with my 15 year old son yesterday. Today he got his learners permit. Interesting timing no doubt!

As I reflect on Carole's life, I can only imagine the challenges Carole endured but I appreciate her choice to make the most of her existence on this earth, and value the gift of life.

The Power Of Presence

"I believe in the power of presence...

Presence is a noun, not a verb; it is a state of being, not doing. States of being are not highly valued in a culture which places a high priority on doing. Yet, true presence or "being with" another person carries with it a silent power — to bear witness to a passage, to help carry an emotional burden or to begin a healing process. In it, there is an intimate connection with another that is perhaps too seldom felt in a society that strives for ever-faster "connectivity."

I was first hurled into an ambivalent presence many years ago, when a friend's mother died unexpectedly. I had received a phone call from the hospital where she had just passed away. Part of me wanted to rush down there, but another part of me didn't want to intrude on this acute and very personal phase of grief. I was torn about what to do. Another friend with me at the time said, "Just go. Just be there." I did, and I will never regret it.

Since that formative moment, I have not hesitated to be in the presence of others for whom I could "do" nothing. I sat at the bedside, with other friends, of a young man in a morphine coma to blunt the pain of his AIDS-related dying. We spoke to him about his inevitable journey out of this life. He later told his parents — in a brief moment of lucidity — that he had felt us with him. Another time I visited a former colleague dying of cancer in a local hospice. She too was not awake, and presumably unaware of others' presence with her. The atmosphere was by no means solemn. Her family had come to terms with her passing and were playing guitars and singing. They allowed her to be present with them as though she were still fully alive. With therapy clients, I am still pulled by the need to do more than be, yet repeatedly struck by the healing power of connection created by being fully there in the quiet understanding of another. In it, none of us are truly alone.

The power of presence is not a one-way street, not only something we give to others. It always changes me, and always for the better."

Debbie Hall has been a psychologist in San Diego's Naval Medical Center Pediatrics Department for 12 years. She volunteers for the Disaster Mental Health Team of her local Red Cross. http://www.npr.org/templates/story/story.php?storyId=5064534

Great Quote

"If you would not be forgotten as soon as you are dead, either write things worth reading or do things worth writing." -Benjamin Franklin