NINE (9) LIVES... and then some!

As an author, my experience has been limited pretty much to newsletters for various clubs and organizations on an unpaid basis, but it did help me present my views on subjects ranging to the political, hints on being physically fit (this was after I suffered a SCD (Sudden Cardiac Death) on the Senior Softball Field #3 in Penn Valley, California. But let me get back to that because that event while serious, was only one of many instances that I came so close to passing the barrier that we all face from being alive, to passing on to whatever awaits us after our soul leaves wonderful mother earth as this planet is known by many million millions that have been lucky enough to have drawn a breath of air, or have enjoyed a taste of fresh or even dirty water. Our marvelous sun, that gigantic burning sphere about 93 million miles from our planet and is a burning mass about 330 times our little speck in the sky, which provides us with light and heat in our blanket atmosphere providing the means for all of our living occupants the ingredients to exist for years, with only a minor hiccup now and then to get our attention. Having reached the age of 80, my mind continually reflects back on the many instances that could have brought and end to my life. Some are the result of my own hasty and faulty judgment, others occurred because I happened to be in the wrong place at the wrong time. The facts remain that for reasons I cannot comprehend, I survived and others were the victims of the well-known fickle happenstance of fate. Reports from survivors of near-fatal occurrences indicate they felt the presence of power or of a bright light. I have cannot recall anything even close to that. My feeling is that I was very lucky to survive, let it go, and get on with my life. So far that has been to my advantage and has left me with the strong motivation to relate to others because we are just: 'One of Many!' My membership in the Disabled American Veterans Organization, has finally provided psychiatric help me to slay the demons that plagued me for so many years. It was M. Keenan PhD. at Mather VA Hospital, Sacramento, Calif. who emphasized the therapeutic gain by expressing ourselves by writing, either to those that did not survive, or to transfer awful memories from our weary conscious state to a written recollection of specific events that will over time lessen the demonizing that never seems to go away.