What we are today comes from our thoughts of yesterday,
and our present thoughts build our life of tomorrow:
Our life is the creation of our mind.
[Buddha]

Mama knit lace for close to ninety years. Whenever someone asked how she produced such intricate work, she’d answer, “One stitch at a time.” Actually, anyone who can work a knit stitch, can produce the same results one stitch at a time.

I had an instructor in college who taught the same way. He presented bits of information in such small, logical steps that they accumulated into a sound body of knowledge and skills by the end of the course. I was amazed at how much and how painlessly I’d learned.

So it is with maintaining a blog. Post by post, comment by comment, revision by revision, link by link it grows. Over time, a body of writing accumulates. For me, this is a dynamic method of keeping a public journal. First, I enjoy the dialog with people who leave comments. There have been times when we have lent each other a measure of support even though we don’t know each other except through what we write. Also, I like imagining that I have someone to address when I write a post. I polish my prose and check my spelling—like combing my hair and putting on lipstick before going to market. And, I like being able to look back to see how I perceived life a year or two ago.

Most of all, I think a record of little things is important down the line in time. I’ve been reading Ernie Pyle’s last book, The Last Chapter. It is not touted to be his best reporting but it has struck me as being important. I think about how many names, dates and places I know about in the history of World War II. The Last Chapter lends another understanding. It includes the little, day to day things that put a human face on history. This helps a student of history understand why things were the way they were—maybe even why things are the way they are.

I wanted a perfect ending.
Now I’ve learned, the hard way, that some poems don’t rhyme,
and some stories don’t have a clear beginning, middle, and end.
Life is about not knowing, having to change,
taking the moment and making the best of it,
without knowing what’s going to happen next.
Delicious Ambiguity.

[Gilda Radner]

When I was in the lower grades, I had a friend who lived in a garage halfway on my walk to school. In those days, most garages were only large enough to accommodate one car and many had gravel floors. My friend lived in an ample two-car garage with a concrete floor. I thought it was enchanting. It reminded me of playing house in the yard when we would walk off where the imaginary walls were. “This is the living room and that is the baby’s room.”

When we entered the side door, I could see all four garage walls and an arrangement that looked like a furniture store. The back of the sofa and bookcases marked the perimeter of the living room. A stove, a table with chairs, and an Indiana cupboard marked off the kitchen. A vanity mirror and wardrobe edged the bedroom area. Everything was tidy and well kept.

That was more than fifty years ago. Looking back, I’m amazed that, as a child, I never wondered why that family was living in such an unusual circumstance. I simply thought is was a fun place to visit. I really doubt that my friend’s mother viewed her situation with the same delight. This morning, I was sweeping the dust bunnies from my oak floors and thinking about that woman I never really knew. Did she study the cracks in the concrete floor trying to make sense of her situation? Did she wonder how long her children and belongings would have to be housed in a garage? Did she ever get a home with real walls?

We achieve inner health only through forgiveness—
the forgiveness not only of others but also of ourselves.
[Joshua Loth Liebman]

I was thinking about the new year and resolutions. Then a thought crossed my mind. What if I meditated upon growth-producing concepts and let those enrich my life instead of deciding what I think I ought to do and driving myself nuts trying to do it? I knew immediately that the first concept for meditation has to be forgiveness. I’m not young. I’ve learned from experience that forgiveness is for me the most important process in living a balanced, productive life.

I did achieve my resolutions last year. I quit smoking about February, have exercised regularly (at Curves) and weigh the same as I did when I quit smoking. Not gining weight delights me. I could make a whole list of things I’d like to achieve this year but do truly think a year-long attitude-changing exercise might be more productive. I’ll focus on the process of forgiveness as my January exercise. Meanwhile, happy new year my friends. KMM

A dog is the only thing on earth
that loves you more than he loves himself.
[Josh Billings]

My daughter is a zoo keeper at the Fort Wayne Children’s Zoo. The evening before Thanksgiving, we gave my grandson, Joshua, a birthday party at the zoo. What fun. Fortunately there is a jungle lab where we could be inside out of the cold for the festivities. Joshua’s ice cream cake was from Dairy Queen (they have the food concession at the zoo) and was decorated with the zoo logo, animals and Joshua’s name. I was eating the ice cream and visiting with one of the zoo educators when I heard a pop and I realized my upper dental plate had fractured down the middle—apparently from the cold of the ice cream. The good news is that the party was a rousing success.

The less-than-good news is that I later tried to glue my dental plate back together without success. On Thanksgiving, I entertained a houseful of guests without my upper dental plate. Even though my thoughts kept returning to the pressing need to find a dental lab first thing Friday morning, I did have to chuckle at the up side of the situation. I wouldn’t have to worry about gaining weight from the rich food. Then, while I was working in the kitchen, I heard a yelp. My doggy buddy, Toby, had collided with my three-year-old grandson. The grandson was fine since Toby only weighs ten pounds, but Toby came away with a limp. Even with pampering and protection, Toby’s limp did not go away. Isn’t it amazing how quickly pressing needs change? Finding a dental lab moved down the list. It has been replaced by a trip to the vet. After all, my doggy buddy loves me even without my upper teeth.

PHOTO ABOVE: Okay, I’ll admit to slipping some turkey bits under the table to my injured buddy. Here he is in a turkey trance.

Uncertainty is the only certainty there is,
and knowing how to live with insecurity
is the only security.
[John Allen Paulos]

I learned my lesson. It took me over sixty years and repeated crises, but I finally learned my lesson. There is no such thing as security. Uncertainty is the norm. Uncertainty is to be expected. Coming to grips with that, just like coming to grips with my own mortality, set me free to embrace life.

Several years ago, someone in a lawyer’s office made a mistake and put my name on an arrest warrant. I was in the middle of a sunny, summer work day when a police person came to my home office and hauled me to the county jail. I was terrified, and realized that nobody knew where I was since I live alone and wouldn’t be missed. It was eight hours before someone figured out that the wrong person had been arrested and released me. Everything about my stay in jail was scary and insulting. For awhile, it left me with a fear that law enforcement would make another mistake.

My parents survived the 1930s depression. Mama was a school teacher so she could get work even when Daddy was laid off from work. They worked, planned, saved, kept their debts paid off, and provided amply for their children. They did all of the things responsible people were supposed to do, then Daddy acquired Altzheimers after he retired. Over the years, the disease ate up all of their savings as it ate away at his brain. After he died, Mama sold her house in order to have money to live on.

I learned that, if we are blessed to wake in the morning, we can never say what our day will hold. We can save for our future in a well-advised, secure manner, and then see our savings evaporate in a few months. We can be conscientious about our financial integrity only to see a careless mistake or a crook rob us of that in an instant. We can lose loved ones, lose jobs, lose homes, lose our health no matter how careful and responsible we have been.

I also learned that I have a choice. I can choose to fill this moment as full as possible. I meet my responsibilities, but I also laugh and play. Things are going to happen whether or not we laugh and enjoy ourselves, or we worry ourselves sick. Neither attitude will stave off disaster but choosing to enjoy the moment makes the trip a lot better not only for ourselves but also for those around us.