“Death smiles at us all, all a man can do is smile back.”

     Okay, so lately I have had the end of life on my mind.  Gee, I wonder why.... a brother dies, my mother is slowing fading away,  I had a cholesterol test done and it was HIGH, I have to schedule more cardiac exams because of what the last one found (or didn't as the case may be), I have even MORE pills I have to take and it is fall, the season I find the most depressing of all.  At the moment, my list just keeps growing and I don't see an end in sight.
     I have often been asked by friends, family and students how I can possibly stay so positive when there is so much in my life that could be negative or just plain depressing.  The answer is complicated. 
     First, I am one of those irritating "glass half full" people.  I have always tried my best to look on the bright side, to see the best, even in the worst situations and to smile when I really feel like crying.  I also have always admired the kind of people who take a horrible situation and make something positive out of it. 
     Second, I am a Taurus born in the Chinese year of the Ox.  I am extremely stubborn, bull headed, persistent,  tenacious,  determined, etcetera.  I believe that a positive attitude can work wonders in my life.  I know that when my health was at it's worst, when the HIV had me down, I kept holding on and fighting.  Now, I guess I figure I really need to keep going.
     Third, but not last, I absolutely hate to be negative.  Jim might argue, he knows that when it comes to politics, the "right" wing and many other similar topics on the six o'clock news, I tend to be very negative and then I get mad at myself.  But when it comes to me, my health and my relationships (especially with the man I love), I really try to be very positive.  I know that a positive attitude can change the world.
     So, I guess I will try hard not to want to just give up.  I will try to keep smiling when I want to cry.  I will keep drinking only half a glass so that it will always be half full (nothing wrong with a half a glass of Scotch) and I will do the best I can to survive.  Then I will continue to laugh at death while death smiles at me!  


  1. I know this phase. Not the way you know it, but I have an inkling. In my world it's the One More Thing Syndrome. Already carrying a shitload, then the next turd drops. It's an adjustment, to shift the weight of the potty-pack on my back in order to accommodate the latest loaf. But adjustment happens. And then I can look up again and see where I'm going. And there's a pretty sunset, or a goofy dog on the street, or a really good cup of coffee. And it's okay. I love you, buddy.


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