I’m a lucky man. Lisa, Steve, Kenzie and Hudson were over for dinner last night. It didn’t go so well for me. I had a relatively good day. I was somewhat functional right up until the time we started prepping dinner and then my Parkinson’s flared and I became immobile. There goes helping prep food, grilling and serving dinner. I retired to my room while my family did the rest. Doesn’t sound lucky, does it?
I took my usual meds a little earlier than I was supposed and prayed they would kick in. Over the next 90 minutes, I improved enough to join my family at the dinner table. The kids helped Renee clean up; and, before they left, I asked them if they had any suggestions for today’s article.
To my surprise, Lisa suggested the title be, “I’m a lucky man.” Considering how bad I was, her response surprised me. Nonetheless, I started writing this morning, trying to figure out ways in which I’m lucky. That’s when it hit me. When Renee’s dad lived with us, I would come home from work and find him sitting at the kitchen table. I would greet him, “Hi dad. How are you doing today?” Almost always, his response was, “I’M ALIVE, AREN’T I! I’M DOIN FINE.”
Being alive was good enough for Bernard. He found contentment just sitting at the dinner table with me, his daughter and his grandchildren. Unlike me, he never complained about his losses. Despite how I felt, I’m alive; and last night I found contentment sitting at the dinner table with my family. I guess I am a lucky man and Lisa was timely in reminding me of that fact!
I’m sure you’ve noticed that I’m up and down depending on my ability to function. Up and down is good in bed (just had to squeeze in a little SEX for rating purposes) but not in day-to-day life. I keep searching for a philosophy of life that will help even me out. I think Bernard’s focus, “I’M ALIVE, AREN’T I! I’M DOIN FINE,” may be what the doctor ordered.
Yes, I’m lucky to be alive. I’m lucky to be with my family. I’m lucky to have moved into a neighborhood with a group of welcoming elders suffering from CRS like me. I’m lucky to be able to Facetime with my brother every day. I’m lucky to call my childhood friends brothers, as well. I’m lucky to have my Rock Steady group. The list goes on and on. I’M A LUCKY MAN!
(Editor’s note: We are all lucky to him, however we can get him!)
Here’s a joke:
Two guys are sitting next to each other in a pub.
After a while, one guy looks at the other and says, “I can’t help but think, from listening to you, that you’re from Ireland.”
The other guy responds proudly, “Yes, that I am!”
The first guy says, “So am I! And where abouts from Ireland might you be?”
The other guy answers, “I’m from Dublin, I am.”
The first guy responds, “Sure and begora, and so am I! And what street did you live on in Dublin?”
The other guy says, “A lovely little area it was, I lived on McCleary Street in the old central part of town.”
The first guy says, “Faith & it’s a small world, so did I! And to what school would you have been going?”
The other guy answers, “Well now, I went to St. Mary’s of course.”
The first guy gets really excited, and says, “And so did I. Tell me, what year did you graduate?”
The other guy answers, “Well, now, I graduated in 1964.”
The first guy exclaims, “The Good Lord must be smiling down upon us! I can hardly believe our good luck at winding up in the same bar tonight. Can you believe it, I graduated from St. Mary’s in 1964 my own self.”
About this time, another guy walks into the bar, sits down, and orders a beer. The bartender walks over shaking his head & mutters, “It’s going to be a long night tonight.”
The guy asks, “Why do you say that?”
“The Murphy twins are drunk again.”
