What Will They Remember?

As I watched out the window today, my crow friends were happily surfing the strong East wind with reckless abandon. My thoughts were twirling, diving, spinning randomly just like the crows cavorting in the wind until I landed on a singular thought.  Today is my grandson's birthday.

"Wow he's ten today and I've been fighting the Effing Evil Empire for half of his life.  I wondered, if this battle takes a turn for the worse, what he would remember about his grandfather?

As we all know, in the battle against the Empire, there are good days and bad days.  Would he remember playing pirates down by the river on a balmy summer's afternoon.  Or would he remember his grandfather irritably snatching the Nerf gun away after telling him three times not to shoot the gun in the house?  Would he remember, all of us playing "baseball" over at the school, laughing with abandon when I tried to run, cane in hand ,falling down in dramatic fashion.  Or would he remember when I became irritated and snapped at him for a reason that obviously isn't important because today I can't remember what the reason was?

What about the rest of my family?  Would the decades sum of bad days and good days lean toward their good memories or crumble to a pile of bad? The same could be asked about my friends, acquaintances, passers by, other drivers and Sasquatch.  What is the last memory of me those who, for whatever reason, the last time they saw me was the last time they will see me?

If you think your sum of good plus bad falls into the bad column there is good news.  Humans seem to remember their most recent experiences.  So act now and you can get that sum to lean toward the good.

Whether you are fighting the Effing Evil Empire or cruising blissfully through life you never know when you walk out the door if you will see that person again.  What do you want them to remember?

My grandson is coming over tonight for his birthday.  Whether the Empire has me in it's black grip or not I'm going to make sure when he walks out the door to go home with his mom that he walks with a good memory.

Happy Birthday PJ

Talk to you later.

An Old Bull Ridden By Cancer

This morning, bending over a bucket, desperately trying to keep my oat meal where it belongs the Effing Evil Empire was doing it's best to win.  Truth be told puking isn't the issue, it's the prelude up to it [sorry] ask any woman who has had morning sickness.

None the less, this morning I managed to fight my oat meal back down.  I had help this time though.  I now have a mantra.  You old fogies as old as I am just relax, a mantra isn't some Eastern hugaboo boogley.  A Mantra is something you say to yourself to remind you how strong you actually are.

Recently I was given a gift.  Turned out to be a huge gift for me.  A gift from a co-worker whom easily  has become my friend.  A wise friend.  Here's why.

Decades ago, I decided that the best profession for me was to become a Bull Rider in the Rodeo.  Well duh, joining the rodeo for me was the same as running away with the circus.  But none the less I became a Bull Rider. 

The rules then; long sleeve shirt, chaps and a hat.  Don't look at the PBR guys in this day and age with disdain, wearing their flack jackets, helmets and mouth pieces.  Bulls today are twenty million bazillion times larger than the bulls I would find myself on back in the day. Frankly, today's bulls,  they can murder you in a blink.  Not an exaggeration.

I could be called stupid for even attempting such a thing as riding.  Stupid or not, I would climb into the chute, sit down on a ton or so of "I will kill you" and nod my head with massive trepidation.  I was always scared to no shit.  

Alas, I also have to add there is no drug, no event in life, that remotely compares to the rush the millisecond before you nod your head to the chute boss and that gate opens. You forget all of your past and future at that point.  For me that was the point.

The point?  The point now is a gift I received recently.  As stupid as riding a bull may sound it did take a certain amount of insanity and, well, for me guts.  Though I was riding for the wrong reasons I still remember the guts it took.

So for you all that are fighting the Effing Evil Empire find a rallying cry or listen for someone to deliver the gift of a rallying cry so you have a shield against the Effing Evil Empire.

My gift, my rallying cry that now hangs in my office so I can see it constantly.  My rallying cry when I'm fighting the Effing Evil Empire....is;

Perfectly framed and matted...the simple words "I once was a bull rider."  That's all.  A reminder of how strong I was and how strong I can be.

Seriously, find your Mantra.  Hell find a pebble on the street if that works for you.  There is a terribly awesome power in anything that reminds you how strong you are while you hover over a puke bucket, lay in radiation, chemo or...

Ride cowboys ride.

Thanks Katrina.

Talk to you later.

Looking Forward To Cancer I Wish I Knew

The other morning I awoke laying on my right side which means I was staring at the tall trees outside our westward facing window.  Bizarrely my heart rate was accelerated and the blood in my veins was/were boiling  Oh no, don't think I was raling [wordsmiths it's a word] against the Effing Evil Empire.  No, what was pissing me off was Norm  Vice-Principal of the high school I attended forty years ago.

You see one day while my best friend and I were out having a smoke, a habit my friend quit and one I unfortunately kept for kept for years, Norm in all his sanctimonious prickness came marching up to our location.  It seems Norm, took exception to my friend  smoking while wearing a letter man's jacket.  An ultimatum was issued.  Drop the smoke or surrender the letter man's jacket.  NOW!  God what a dick.  My B.P. is up again just writing this.

Norm seemed to have forgotten that my friend had personally paid for the jacket not just monetarily but with sweat and dedication to the tyrants, uhm, I mean coaches of the era.

Wait!  Why the hell would I wake up aggravated by something so stupid from so many years ago?  After all I'm pretty sure I've more pressing matters.  First thought that comes to mind is a lyric, Rod Stewart I believe, "I wish that I knew what I know now when I was younger."  Man I really would have kicked ass.  No I wouldn't.  I lived ten foot tall and bullet proof.  I would never have believed what I know now.

After that ridiculous morning awakening I've thought a lot about why I look backwards so much lately.  I've decided it's because being terminally ill looking forward kind of sucks.  If I and my Care Giver can't fight myself to wellness there will be tomorrows that are worse than today. Hell even when we kick the Empire's ass there will be really bad times.

But...I've made a decision today.  Every day in my future, your's too no matter how shitty you feel, will have a good thing happen at least once.  A thing that you may make happen.  A thing that maybe someone you don't even know may make happen to you. 

I'm going to look forward...certainly not back to Vice Principal Norm.  

Talk to you later.