if you have seen casablanca you remember that line and the atmosphere enveloping the two lovers. it has to be one of the most romantic moments in a movie.
we are watching the pbs special mr. selferidge. two of the characters are employees that are verging on a relationship. it is his birthday and he asks her to meet him in the dinner room after hours. she arrives, there are candles and a table set to perfection with a piece of cake on the table. a bit of small talk, then he asks her to dance. it is the kind of romantic moment women want to live out in their own life. just the two of them waltzing to their own music.
i remark that it is one of those moments, he asks if i am disappointed i have not had that same experience. i want to say of course not but there is something else i want to say. something that needs to be said and something that needs to be remembered.
this a a moment to let you know how you have given so many moments over the years. they are living here in my mind and heart. so i tell you, i remember our first valentine day. i was at my flat waiting for you so we could go to lunch. glancing out my window, the sun is shining and everything looks so clean and fresh in my mind. then my breath does a little gasp…. coming down the street is a man with a huge white box with a huge red bow on it. that can not be you i think, this can not be for me! the man comes closer, never looks at the window, doesn’t realize the impact this gesture has and always will have.
he is at the door and i am grabbing the knob, pulling him in, in my head and heart. he steps inside and suddenly i realize that this is really happening. i have never had such kindness in my life. no one has ever loved me like this. slowly touching the bow and the box, taking in every sense of that moment, not rushing and ripping into it. it doesn’t matter what is in the box. slowly and carefully the ribbon which is a real red satin ribbon comes off the box.
my fingers ever so slightly touch the box, feel the texture, the weight of it. lifting the lid slowly as though it may have something that would frighten me, i lift the top. there in mounds of white tissue paper is the most beautiful red mohair afghan from a local irish shop. it is simple and perfect. it is the best ending to this moment. your face at knowing how happy you made me, made me love you even more.
i glance over at you and you are not looking at me. i can see that you are touched, what we call “choked up.” then you speak, i remember the first kiss we had in the tower books parking lot. i have to take this in, to understand that this was a moment for him. oh yes i remember this moment well. the awkward is he going to kiss me, no it is too soon. then there it is we are leaning against the car like a couple of teenagers and don’t care who see’s us. don’t care who knows in that moment that we have something amazing starting. it is the beginning of a million more kiisses and hugs. it is the beginning of life time of precious memories.
bogart may have said “we’ll always have paris” but we say “we’ll always have j st.” and they mean the same thing. we have this moment, this very moment now, that nothing can touch, there can be nothing from the outside, not even my dying that can darken that bright and beautiful day.
the last day of our stay at the lodge i woke up with a sore throat, fever and cough. this was no surprise as my husband had the same cold for the past 4 days and was now feeling better. we cut our visit to his friends farm short due to my health. after we got home it took the usual time to recover from our adventure. i was out once or twice but it was a strain and i was exhausted afterward.
since that time i have been telling people i have the flu but i am becoming more convinced that is not the truth at this point. my days have been filled with a mix of sleep and exhaustion. when my eyes open it is already mid-day, unable to get myself moving i close them and when they are again open it is at least 2 hours later. by late afternoon i am able to work myself up to the trip down the hall. once in the recliner i am loath to make any more moves. i sort of watch t.v. and try to have some conversation. he goes to bed with my reassurance i will follow soon. the return trip to the bed seems more than i can handle so i sort of doze in the chair and let the t.v. play on.
today though i had more reason to get up. even my birthday was not enough reason to get up but today there was heather. we had planned on going out for dinner on my birthday but i begged off. as much as i wanted to i just couldn’t find the strength. my desire to see her beat the exhaustion. we met for lunch and the 3 of us had great conversation, she is so well-informed in a variety of topics, plus she is just kind and fun.
we made one other stop and by the time we were home i could barely walk to the bed. after a couple of hours sleep i was able to drag myself down the hall. here i am after some time off writing again.
there will come a time that no matter how important the reason i won’t be able to move myself to action.
for today i had a reason. my love for heather gave me a reason to move the mountains. my love for who we are when the three of us are together gave me a reason.
my sister is coming in june. she was the first person that gave me a reason to do more in life. she made me happy to get up in the morning.
my family and friends (including my wp friends) have given me a reason to open up the computer and share what is on my mind and in my heart.
i am grateful to have so many reasons to keep waking up in the morning and to believe each day that tomorrow will be better.
mother’s day comes just before my birthday, sometimes on my birthday. i have to confess that neither of these have been a big deal to me in the past. i am not sure when this happened but i find myself thinking feeling very plugged-in and even emotional as i sit here reflecting.
my personal experience with this “special” day has ranged from oblivious to heart-broken to some understanding and acceptance of what this day means for me. while with my grandmother no one celebrated this day. maybe because we were poor and rather disconnected from the rest of the world.
with the my own mother, aka the queen mother/marie, when i came to live with them full-time i became aware of how important it was not to disappoint her on this day. for the next couple of years i worked with my dad to make this day everything she expected. once i left home it was easy to send a card and flowers, one year she told me the flowers were nice but she would like a different kind of green. you know, the ones that come on dollar bills. right from the beginning of our relationship chris sort of stepped in and made sure things were taken care of.
each year he picked out the card, signed the check and even called her. she thought he was a saint. the problem, not just with her, i believe is this sort of false expectations. some families have that Norman Rockwell life, the majority do not. many “holidays” set people up for disappointment. it is sad to know that this one day can cause so much pain to so many.
i have been thinking of some of my blog friends. there is such a range, from a mother whose son died suddenly to the mother who lost her daughter just recently to a terminal illness that caused her a kind of suffering the mind can not imagine.
one asked if she is still a mother since her adult child has passed on. this has been on my mind for some time. finally this is what i think, you never stop being a mother. your child may be gone from this world, yet you still feel them don’t you? you haven’t stopped loving them or hoping that you will be reunited with them when the time comes. they will never stop being your child so how can you stop being their mother?
tomorrow is Mother’s Day and there are already ups and downs. chris is going to make me waffles and bacon:) his favorite breakfast to cook. one of our friends has a young son who told chris he could get a job at the waffle house for sure! yesterday i received a card from my grandchildren in charleston. i almost cried when i read there little messages. in the past i looked forward to a card from someone else and it didn’t come this year. my disappointment and hurt have surprised me. it goes back to wanting to be remembered and how i will be remembered. if this special person no longer sees me as a maternal figure then maybe i have failed in some way. wow, i didn’t realize just how deep this was until i put it here in words. my tears will dry and i will look at this event again tomorrow, hopefully with different perspective.
hallmark has created a whole new pool of patients for the therapists:)
i want to wish all women a happy day tomorrow. it may be bitter-sweet for some of us but i hope all find a way to get on the other side where we can breathe easier again.
Happy Mother’s Day!
May 8, 2013 at 1:06 am (Uncategorized) (catastrophic language, dr. phil, how does it feel to die, judge judy, living with dying, making memories, on a scale of 1-10, the dr. says, waiting for the end)
it sounds so simple but when you are “right” fighting it can be difficult to stop and ask yourself just how important this issue is to you. one of the first things i learned about my loving husband was he had no idea how to compromise. it was all about someone wins and someone loses. if he did not get his way he felt somehow diminished. it took time and many conversations and is still a work in progress.
most of my life i asked myself one very important question, is this important to you? if so just how important? that is where the scale of 1-10 comes in. most of the time we argue of the silliest things. if we stop and ask if that particular issue really matters to us more often than not the answer is no. why not let the other person have what they want if it doesn’t matter to you? this is more than a couples technique to use. when we have conflict in public or with friends it is so easy to use the scale system.
during this trip we had the opportunity to use this system. there is no way i should have committed to being on the road for this long. i did and so there were consequences of course. our last day at the lodge was friday the 3rd, after check-out we headed over to his friends farm just a couple of hours away. when we woke up it was snowing and i was so excited! one of my “one last time” was to see snow. when we first moved to georgia, our first winter there was snow and an ice storm. people at work were miserable and hating it but here i was just wanting to do a cheer. some people found that annoying. he wanted to go on a two-hour tour of the dogwood canyon, i was concerned but thought if it is important to him then i want to do it. when i wanted to go horseback riding but knew i couldn’t, he suggested we go on a carriage ride.
so things are going pretty spectacularly until the day we head over to the “farm.” it was raining and the roads were icy. when we went down the dirt road to their farm we came to a spot where the water from a creek was rushing across the road. i told him i do not want to be that couple on the weather station where the narrator says “who knows why they decided to cross the rushing water” the bodies were found down stream weeks later. so we backed up. i thought we are going home and my body was so ready.
after we turned around he called his friend and was told we were on the wrong road. i was so upset because i wanted to head home. when he wanted to go on to his friends i was so mad. it was completely unreasonable. of course i wasn’t rude to the friends and yet in the back of my mind i was seething. that night we had to sleep in twin beds since that is the way the room was set up. i laid awake for hours trying to decide what to do.
finally i went to sleep thinking i could make it one more day and i know how important it was for him. so i ask myself on a scale of 1-10 how important is it to me to go? how important is it to him to stay? i was pretty sure it was a 10 for him. having that settled i was able to go to sleep. when i woke up i could hear voices and knew that i was going to just be as nice as possible. he deserved that from me. so you can not imagine how surprised i was when our friend said to me, chris explained that you need to head home and we were hoping you could stay longer but we understand. i felt like crying. when you love someone you want to do what ever you can to make them happy. i asked him why he did this and he just said it was the best thing for us to do.
the night before when i was upset, i realized that i was using catastrophic language. this can really escalate a situation. i make every effort to keep language as real as possible.. on judge judy there was a case where the plaintiff was saying this was the worst thing that could have happened to her child. this worst thing was not getting the jersey’s for their team on time. judge judy called them idiots and i would have to say that i agreed in this circumstance. jj pointed out that the child was healthy and could play a sport.. that is not a bad thing! so what if they don’t have their jerseys? the mother just didn’t get it.
on dr. phil a couple was hoping to reunite with family members. all through-out the show words/phrases such as “i just wanted to die” “they treated me like an animal’ and i am devastated. all words to incite or inflame a situation. now there are times when this language would be understandable but this was not one them. of course dr. phil pointed this out while the family continued to say that is how it felt to them.
so be careful with your words and ask yourself on a scale of 1-10 how important is it to you that you get your way. if you stop and ask that i am sure your life will be more peaceful. you will gain perspective and remember the happiness you give is coming back to you ten fold.
WordPress gave me a little hint the other day. it said i should be more consistent in my blogging posts. now i don’t take this personally as i am sure a few thousand others got the same prompt. my question was how will others be affected by this?
there are some blogs i have looked at that have that professional look. you know the one that looks they are just waiting to be discovered as a great writing talent? some of them are just that and they are very talented. it is amazing that so many people have found a way to do what they love which is write.
i on the other hand had to laugh when it came to the word consistent. really? let me just say that none of our lives are consistent and least of all the life of someone who is dealing with illness. i don’t just mean the person who is ill either. my illness does not affect only myself. most of all it is an everyday, unrelenting, question of what you will or will not be able to do today. some days i can’t even think that far ahead. it is a process, it starts with opening my eyes (yay, i am alive) then can i get to my feet? some days yes and some days no, other days it starts one way then becomes the other. if you are not flexible you will break under this kind of “consistent” inconsistency.
we have been here at the Big Cedar Lodge for a couple of days now. we actually got here a bit later than expected since yesterday when i woke up it seemed all was a go then it wasn’t. we paid for another night but around 2 p.m. i was able to rouse and we were on our way. we were packed and ready to go and just that quickly the lights were going out. he has a bit of a cold and crawled back in bed with me saying we would be sick together this day. this is a long way from mr. i have to know every possibility and plan for it to mr. i have a kite and just need to know which way the wind is blowing today. he is so dear to me for so many reasons and with each day i find a new way to love him even more.
this morning was slow, then a short ride, back to nap and now looking forward to a horse-drawn carriage ride this evening. of course the altitude is doing a dance with my heart, it matters little to me. what matters are a few more memories, a few more moments. that is all any of us have for sure.
as Emerson says “consistency is the hobgoblins of little minds.”
April 30, 2013 at 6:23 pm (Uncategorized)
I will be the first to admit that living in chronic pain can make me a bit…sensitive. I think when you live with pain or a disability, there is a tendency to think that people are judging you or criticizing you. I often feel a sense of inferiority at not being able to do what women my age can do. I also tend to feel there is a stigma attached to being chronically ill and, especially, to taking pain medication.
if only i were really going to talk about those things but no, sorry, wrong blog:)
i have discovered, however, for me at least being ill requires some amount of lying or non-specific answers. when asked how i am feeling it is not polite to say how i am really feeling so i go with the old stand-by of “pretty good” how about you? more times than not people will then go into excruciating detail over that nasty hangnail they just could not get rid of or we have the baby/grand baby people. now the latter is not offensive to me, a new life is a gift to be celebrated even to the point of making the rest of us nauseated. this can lead to more lying since we all know that not every baby is just the cutest baby in the world. they are to you and so the rest of us play along out of sympathy since you have the only ugly baby in the world. sorry but it had to be said and since i am dying it wouldn’t do much good to kill me would it?
so out of politeness we lie. he say he wants to know how i am really feeling as we start our week-long journey. no he doesn’t i think. he wants me to say we are not making a mistake and you are not going to end up on some back road in missouri with a dead wife in the front seat. so i say this, and i kind of mean it. i don’t think it is a mistake at all. for us to keep exploring and having laughs until the time runs out and there are no more trips to look forward to is who we are. all that stuff about don’t be too positive may work for some but not for us.
saturday we had lunch with heather, i am not going to call her my step-daughter anymore, there was some chatter and we had fun. she had asked me how i was and even knowing how she cares i can’t bring myself to tell her that just hours ago i was dry-heaving and wanted to curl up in a ball on the bed. we do a lot of starting to say and then the other sort of saying “yeah” and “i know”. it seems to work for us, why spoil a perfectly good lunch with talk of how my condition continues to go down hill and at some point we are hitting the bottom of the hill.
i am not calling her my step-daughter here and i want you and her to know that the reason is she is so much more to me than that. i sort of picture step-families being thrown together and sometimes there is a great deal of resentment that goes both ways. we are friends and more, the other part is the mother part. i can see for small children there is a need to identify this woman who is now a part of your life and may at times behave as if she is your mother. well these two young women have a wonderful mother and i have never seen myself in that role with them. i am blessed they want me in their life and treat me like family.
for tonight i am not going to lie to you. i feel death coming closer, i hear the bear growl. at times i think i may see her but then she moves a little and we continue down this path. the toxins are working their way through my body to the skin where they are sores that itch and bleed. i have these toxins because my liver and kidneys are not working the way they should. my liver is enlarged and causes great pain. it is like having the worst charlie horse you have ever experienced just under your ribcage on the right side of your body. of course the spleen takes up its chorus on the left side and the kidneys can be felt in more places than you think and may be different in different people. i am so weak at times that just standing takes a monumental effort. my arms and legs can turn to shaking jello. sometimes my eyes won’t focus and my mind is hard to clear. forget about reading or even looking at the temp control on the wall.
let me not be a liar here and tell you that sex is not everything. if you are with a man who will lay on the bed when you are too sick to lift your head, and read poetry to you and cry because it is so beautiful, well i will take that over sex any day.
what can i say about videotape, i do intend to make several over the next few weeks and put them away for those i believe will find meaning in them.
so there you have it! sex, lies and videotape:)
the following is an excerpt from an article in the Wall Street Journal. the bold type is from the article, i am adding my thoughts to the “rules” in regular type. last week while at Barnes and Noble i picked up this book. it is titled how to be a friend to a friend who is sick. it has occurred to me that we have a how to book for just about every situation. for some who struggle with knowing what is appropriate under these circumstances this seems a blessing. i have considered writing a book, it would be a part of the for dummies series, it would be how to die for dummies. it surprises me someone has not done this already. of course i think it would have to be written by someone who is actually dying.
For a Sick Friend: First, Do No Harm
Conversing with the ill can be awkward, but keeping a few simple commandments makes a huge difference
‘A closed mouth gathers no feet.” It’s a charming axiom, but silence isn’t always an option when we’re dealing with a friend who’s sick or in despair. The natural human reaction is to feel awkward and upset in the face of illness, but unless we control those feelings and come up with an appropriate response, there’s a good chance that we’ll blurt out some cringe-worthy cliché, craven remark or blunt question that, in retrospect, we’ll regret.
1. Rejoice at their good news. Don’t minimize their bad news.
at this point i don’t get any good news per say. what i get is that i am not worse. when you are the friend to someone who is sick there may be improvement. when you are friends with someone who is dying we need you to understand and accept that we are not going to get better. as i entered what is called “end stage heart failure” people would say it was going to be ok and how sure they were this was no big deal. now i am not saying i wanted anyone to cry, i just wanted to know that those closest to me understood the significance. personally i am not offended when my family and friends “minimize” my situation. i prefer being around people who are a positive support.
2. Treat your sick friends as you always did—but never forget their changed circumstance.
this is one of the greatest gifts my family and friends have given me. there are times i remind them that i am capable of caring about other’s and their problems. even my grandchildren have adapted to my situation. having a mother who had polio prepared me for making the transition from my life before and my life now. one of my most vivid memories in the intensive care was when one of my friends came to visit and she had the sad face and kept her distance. immediately i started asking about the new guy she was dating and her job. i just wanted to have a normal conversation. luckily my wonderful man talked about what was going on in the outside world.
3. Avoid self-referential comments.
well i don’t really agree with this one. when someone tells me they had an aunt with heart failure i know that they understand my situation. there is also the sharing component. of course there are going to be times when that is not appropriate. it is a good idea to go with the flow here. if the sick friend is someone like me it is fine to share your own story/experience. just think before you speak is the best advice.
4. Don’t assume, verify.
the example used by the author is – saying to someone “well at least they caught it early.” this was followed by the sick friend saying “no they didn’t, i am not going to be able to have treatment.” when i read this i thought who would do this anyway? if someone is telling you they have cancer it seems more natural to ask for more information. again this is just think before you speak.
5. Get the facts straight before you open your mouth.
is it just me or is this the same as number 4?
6. Help your sick friend feel useful.
unfortunately this is not always good advice. if your friend is well enough to use their skills in service of other’s it may be what they need. someone who is in the middle of treatment for breast cancer will not feel up to doing for others. on my good days i make dinner for my husband or for other family/friends. i felt good when giving advice to a friend on how to file a claim in small claims court. standing by a friend during a painful divorce helped my friend and gave me a purpose. when dying it can be a struggle to find a way to feel like a contributing member of society. for me if i were on my death-bed and someone asked me for help that let me use my skills i would have to put dying on hold.
7. Don’t infantilize the patient.
this is a pet peeve of mine. when a medical professional asks “how are we today?” i feel obligated to point it out how degrading this is for a patient. never in all my professional years would i ask or speak to a patient in any other way than with respect. when dying or ill we already feel like we have lost our standing and have become too dependent on others.
8. Think twice before giving advice.
even as a therapist i don’t give advice unless asked. as a friend it can be a deal breaker. no matter if you may be giving what you think is good advice it can blow up in your face and end a good relationship. be a good listener, this is the time to hone those skills.
9. Let patients who are terminally ill set the conversational agenda.
some terminally ill family/friends need to talk about their fears. some want to avoid the subject of death and need to have “normal” conversation. some of us want to please those around us and may be reticent to say what we need to for fear we will make others uncomfortable.
10. Don’t pressure them to practice ‘positive thinking.
The implication is that they caused their illness in the first place by negative thinking—by feeling discouraged, depressed or not having the “right attitude.” Positive thinking can’t cure Huntington’s disease, ALS or inoperable brain cancer. Telling a terminal patient to keep up the fight isn’t just futile, it’s cruel. Insisting that they see the glass as half full may deny them the truth of what they know and the chance to tie up life’s loose ends while there’s still time.
Though most of us feel dis-eased around disease, colloquial English proffers a sparse vocabulary for the expression of embarrassment, fear, anxiety, grief or sorrow. These 10 commandments should help you relate to your sick friends with greater empathy, warmth and grace.
Ms. Pogrebin is the author of 10 books and a founding editor of Ms. magazine. Her latest book is “How to Be a Friend to a Friend Who’s Sick,” from which this essay is adapted.
just be a friend. this is the time to listen, laugh and think before you speak.
“Sam Parnia MD has a highly sought after medical specialty: resurrection. His patients can be dead for several hours before they are restored to their former selves, with decades of life ahead of them.”
Of course there is more to this story and you can Google him easily and read the articles available. He is not suggesting that someone who dies from cancer can be brought back to life; he does however site the heart attack patient as an example.
This does beg the question for some, including me, is this ethical? For me it goes way beyond that to a more personal “why would you?” Certainly there are the physiological concerns, the lack of oxygen to the brain for one. Dr. Parnia reports if the body is kept cool, then the blood can be removed and replaced by oxygenated blood. Then if the heart attack was caused by something such as a block, this can be surgically treated and the patient can survive.
There will be some who cling to this hope for their loved ones. Just because this dr. is exploring the possibility it doesn’t mean that it will be available anytime soon. The other point to consider is how expensive this is going to be. Will insurance companies want to pay for it? Will people on medi-care be left out due to the cost? This means only the very rich will be able to take advantage of this technology.
As for me, well, I wouldn’t want to even if it were available today at my local hospital. We are human beings with a finite time to live. Too many people don’t want to accept the inevitable and this may give them false hope. Will families fall victim to charlatans?
When we are ill, even terminally ill, we want to do what we can to take whatever steps we need to in order to get well or at least make our last days pain-free. I take several medications and have the defib/pacemaker device. In the past I have let myself be put through recommended testing/lab procedures. Bottom line for me, this is going to end in my death and knowing/accepting that helps me make some decisions. I no longer participate in procedures that are invasive or don’t offer any new information.
In my opinion, and we all have one, this may be a disservice to us all. Our energy might be better used on acceptance and living our life to the fullest. I for one will not count on being brought back from the dead. My goal is to enjoy every minute of this life. This one, crazy, wild life, that has been gifted to me deserves my appreciation. In balance I embrace this illness that has been gifted to me. To understand that all these things are gifts can make such a difference in the way we see life and death.
It is green here in Georgia and seemed to happen overnight. The starlings are back to their nest on our porch, ready to lay their eggs. Life is all around me now and I am going to make the most of us.
April 16, 2013 at 1:50 am (Uncategorized) (Christina Symanski, death with dignity, end stage congestive heart failure, how does it feel to die, living with dying, terri schiavo, the conversation project, the dr. says, waiting for the end)
there are more days now when i can not get out of bed. there seems to be a routine to the cycle, first i can’t sleep for the whole night, then i start throwing up/dry heaving. this lasts for 24 – 36 hrs. during this time my head hurts, my whole body especially my joints hurt. i can’t read and barely tolerate music. it sounds like a migraine except it isn’t. i had those for years when i was younger. most alarming is not that i can’t eat anything but i can not even think about fluids without losing it. after this i go to other stomach issues and a terrible weakness. joints still hurt, head still hurts and the nausea is almost unbearable as with even a move i may bring it on. day 3 even though i am exhausted, weak and dizzy it is important to me so i move that mountain of pain and practically crawl down the hall to the living room. as i ease into the recliner there is a sense of triumph. if i can just keep getting up, take a shower, then the hope of doing some small house chore or cooking dinner for my love, starts burning like the embers being blown on oh so carefully to get the flames flickering.
as i lay on the bed that first day, praying if i lay very still i won’t throw-up, my mind goes to making my list. this is the list of things to be grateful for this day. it starts with the fact i opened my eyes and goes on to even the tiniest comforts and joys i know are in my life. as i slip in and out of sleep, which is almost coma like, there is a moment of looking at the clock and thinking this will pass in x number of hours and i will be able to have ice cubes. yay for ice cubes! now what comes after ice cubes? that is my next goal, just make it to that next point and i am farther along the journey to sitting in the living room.
here i am on the 6th day and able to go on an errand with my honey. as we are driving along and enjoying the beautiful day the conversation drifts in and out. we are going on a short trip in a couple of weeks and i am a bit concerned but hey i am being cremated so that can be done anywhere. over the past 5 yrs we have discussed what “quality of life” means to us and the right for a person to choose for themselves.
me- would you say if my life were reduced to days like we just had, that would be a good quality of life?
him- are we just talking about one or two days?
me- no we are talking about if that became my every day.
him- then i would have to say no
me- do you understand what i am asking you
him- yes i do, i just don’t think a few days now and then define your over-all quality of life.
me- no but if that were my life every day…. that would not be my idea of a good quality of life.
him- i feel so helpless when you are having those days.
me- let’s talk about how to handle them then. i need you to come and just sit with me or even read to me since i can’t read on my own. if you could make sure you take care of yourself by going to the gym or playing bridge with your friends i would love that. can you do that for me? should i write you a note that you can bring out on those days and remember what i am saying today.
him- i could read you poetry if you think you would like that. i will check on the cats better and i am going to do better next time.
me- i know you will. poetry would be great. i will get out the books i like.
we have had many conversations, not all this important. i guess i don’t really mean that. every conversation has its own importance in its own way. the smallest gesture can mean the world to someone.
remember not to let one word go unspoken, not one hug or smile be withheld.
the conversation project is an organization that helps people start talking. too many of you will wait until it is too late and no one will know what you believe is right for you or what you want for them. you are not too young, too old, too healthy or too sick to have the conversation. www.theconversationproject.org