I started late in life trying to understand, to get straight, what life is about. At first, I guess I thought it is was about having what I wanted rather sharing and devotedly providing for others. I paid deeply for that selfishness. And Death from Cancer was part of my picture, taking my beautiful, truly intelligent wife. On the long rebound, I met a person who helped change my life. I had decided to go to graduate school, where I really was trying to resurrect myself and think about doing something meaningful in life. I was much older than her, but it didn’t seem to matter much at the time. She saw something in me. To me, she was youth, beauty, inquisitiveness, and a massive gust of fresh air. So began a new life. We stepped into it together busy, knowing pretty much what we wanted, and happy to make each other happy. It seemed to me that we’d withstand the test of time. Soon, however, our daughter was born and that changed everything. Everything I thought I’d learned about love took on a new meaning, aided by a new sense of devotion, of deeper responsibility, a new love, a love beyond my ability to describe or quantify it. And so we lived on, the three of us, not letting a day go by in which we were happily loving each other.
Here I am now, three brain tumors in an “active” mode, great physicians trying to figure it out, thinking of how lucky and fortunate I’ve been and how I will fight to stay alive as long as possible to love and be loved.
