I'm sitting in the hospital right now writing this. I have pneumonia and a touh of broncitis. No fun at all. Yep, that's right. I got to see the fireworks of our nation's 233rd birthday from the window of a hospital room. Yea!

In a conversation with my lovely bride, I came to realize just how important life really is. And if life is truly important, then all who are living should do everything within their power to stay healthy and strong. And such a simple thing that really is. Eat right and get some exercise. That's really it. Eat in moderation avoiding high cholesteral and salty items. Eat plenty of fruits and vegetables every day. And at least get out and walk often for at least 20 minutes every day. Visit a doctor regularly and a dentist at east twice a year. That's it.

If you get sick, it will be because some virus or some concer has hit you. And you can't do much about stopping those things. But the simple things listed above can keep blood pressure down, blood-sugar down, heart and muscles stay strong, and your attitude stays positive.

Oh, I know someone reading this may think I'm just a polyana. And maybe I am. But what's wrong with that. I'm sixty-four. I love life and I want to stay around a long enough to see my daughter graduate from law school. To see my son build a huge business enterprise. And to see my grandson graduate from college. Are those too much to ask?

Life really is too precious to take for granted. And the people who love us should never be discounted by not taking care of yourself. And, of course, I'm preaching to myself. But, isn't that what a blog is all about? At least these are some things worth thinking (or maybe medtating) about.

 
 

This week-end, my son will be getting married. It has taken him a long time to make up his mind to even get married, let alone who to marry. But love found its way into his heart through a young lady has known for many years. They "bumped" into each other over a year ago and decided to start hanging out. Then things got serious. Love blumed and they are now ready to tie the knot.

I cannot help to think back on those naive days in my own life when I met and started to get to know the beautiful young lady I have been calling my wife for over 41 years. We had so much fun getting to know one another and became friends before we started really getting serious. Then the day came when I asked her to bemy wife while standing on the front porch of the dormitory where she was staying on the campus of Arkansas State University. And when she said "yes," she really meant it.

It is very interesting to me that Beverly and I are products of the free-love era of the 1960's, yet we both had "old fashioned" mores and morals that have sustained us through 41 years of marriage. We wanted the freedom of youth, but we were also guided by the strong Christian principles ingrained in us by our parents.

Many years ago, I heard a joke that went like this. A couple married 50 years stood in front of a judge asking for a divorce. When pressed as to why they were separating after so many years, the couple replied, "'Enough is enough!" I have to say that I just don't think I will ever get enough of life with Beverly Sennett. I not only love her, I like her, I trust her, and I truly appreciate her. She is the center of my world, and I'm happy my life is like that.

I was recently asked by one of my students at Palm Beach Community College, "How did you do it?" I had to think a moment then replied, "I guess I just decided that I like my wifes positives more than I dislike her negatives and never looked back." Believe me, I do not work at staying married, I simply try to be the best "me" I can be and then get the most out of everyday that God gives me.

A long marriage begins with two people who are already happy being themselves. Then they simply stay together--no matter what. It's really not that hard.

 
 

Every day that I wake up, I feel very fortunate!  Life is such a precious commodity, and yet so many of us have difficulty truly enjoying life to its fullest.

A couple of years ago, my mother's brother passed away.  I had not talked to him in over a year.  And had not seen him in nearly five.  When I was growing up, I saw him very little and only knew of him by mother's stories of her childhood.  He was in ill health for several months prior to his death.  And I did not take the time to go out to Kansas to visit with him.

Several months ago, I received the dreaded call that my mother's last living sibling, my aunt Jane, had passed away quietly at her home.  The last time I saw her was over five years ago when I went to her home in Mississippi and spent nearly three hours talking, laughing and reminiscing.  For the past four years or so, she had been living in Kansas with her son.  I had not  gone to visit with her after she moved.

Today, I realize that there is no one left of either of my parents' immediate families except for one of my mother's brothers-in-law who is living in Washington state.  I live in Florida.  I haven't seen him in about five years.  However, I have made it a habit to call him every so often to check on him and just visit.

I'm not a wealthy person, but most American's would think me successful and well off.  But I'd trade everything I have for a few more minutes with those of my family who have gone on from this life.  Sad that I learn this lesson at 64 rather than at 24.  I now understand why my father absolutely insisted on taking his family with him at least once a year to the "old home place" in Mississippi.

As a kid, I hated those weeks during the summer when I, a sophisticated big city boy, had to endure cow dung, straw floors and out-houses.  Yet, today, I'd gladly trade everything I have for an opportunity to sit down once again with my grandmother Sennett or with my grand father Wilson.

Because of my father, at least I have special memories of those wonderful people.  I have memories of walking down an old dirt road to Scotty's Store, of calling the cows in for the evening, of sitting on the bank of a small pond with a fishing pole waiting for that first bite, and of sitting in the old country church singing old hymns while the pew slats pinched my bottom when I wiggled too much.

I guess that's why for the past five years, I have happily driven to Orlando from West Palm Beach every Saturday with my wife to spend the day with our grand-son.  He won't have the same memories I have, but he'll have his own of me and his gramma. One day he'll look fondly on those trips to Universal Studios, Disney World, Sea World, Chuck-e-Cheeses, the zoo, and the "castle" park.  And those will help sustain him as he grows older and faces the inevitable losses of life.

To live is to know the reality of death.  And living means that every day holds its own wonderful possibilities of memories and impacts on our psyche.  It's not the accomplishments we make at work, or the possessions we accumulate, but rather the interactions we have with other people that truly make the differences and give meaning to our lives.  And in that understanding I find every reason to live life to its fullest with a deep gratitude for this wonderfully precious gift we know as life.