“Pointer Angels…your life as it could have been”: A short story by Kevin Hughes Flash Fiction.

Hey there, if you are reading this, I guess you know I am a Pointer. Pointer’s as you know, force you to look at the last moments of your life, or significant moments in your life, and point out what you could have done better, or different. A lot of folks don’t like us Pointers. When we are not working, we often go hang out with Angels who don’t know us, at least in our professional capacity. It makes it easier to get along- even here. Not many people forget what their Pointer showed them- or how easy it would have been to choose a better action. Free will does exist, the problem is – it requires thinking. In fact, it requires a lot of thinking, deep thinking, an actual development of a philosophical outlook that takes over automatically in a crisis, or BEFORE you act , speak, or do something. Emotional reaction is much, much, much faster, and requires little thought- in most cases, unless you have done the deep thinking before hand, well, emotion can even overrule that “little voice in your head.” You know, the one that pretty much told you: “This is a bad idea.” Or: “This is stupid.”  Or: ” I wouldn’t do that if I were you.” Since you are you- you should have listened to yourself. You didn’t. So, you spend an eternity -or what seems like an eternity (to you) with someone like me- a Pointer.

Say a guy cuts you off in traffic, so you speed around him, slam on your brakes and give him the finger at the same time. He catches up to you at the next red light. He gets out of his car. You get out of yours. You are raging mad at this lunatic driver. You are so hopped up, you don’t even see the gun in his hand. You are so sure you are right, that you just walk right into your death with thoughts of how you are going to : ” Give him a piece of my mind he will never forget.”  Unfortunately, that must have been the piece of your mind that the forensics folks couldn’t find, as the second bullet tore through your brain. The next thing you know, you are standing in front of me. A pointer. One minute you were a warm blooded human being, going about your day. Worried about things at work, what’s for supper, and if you should take the kids to the zoo on Saturday. The next minute, you are standing next to me (Pointers never stand in front…it is hard to point from that angle) as I point to your grieving wife and kids. It seems so senseless to them. I show the Officers showing up to tell them. I show your parents, as your Mom hands the phone to your Dad, and slumps down in agonizing grief. You see the look on your bosses face, when he sets the phone down, looks over the meeting and says:

” Ben…is….dead. Killed by a guy in road rage.” I point out the different feelings they each have about you. When I point…well, it isn’t like a picture or a map being pointed at. No. Not at all. When I point, YOU feel every emotion, every pang of regret, every ounce of grief, of what your actions have wrung out of folks who knew you. When I point…it hurts. Not always. Sometimes, when I point, to someone who had taken the time to think about life, who had a philosophy to follow, I get soft smiles, and contented sighs. Those are the days that make me glad I am a Pointer. In case you are wondering, a Pointer only handles a one case a day. Even God knows how tough it is. We live for eternity. For the sake of our sanity, we are the only Angels that can separate time into an Earth Day and then slip back into Eternity at will. So, our Pointing exactly matches up with a calendar year. We are given holidays off, we do take turns working a Holliday about every ten years in Earth Time. Nobody, not a single Pointer I know, likes to Point on a Holiday. The impact on the other humans is so exponentially wrenching. So at the meeting when your Boss, who- by the way- considered you a talented man, and a close friend; has to tell everyone about your death-well, it isn’t easy for him. In fact, that night is the first time he has gotten drunk in more than five years. Not coincidentally – it is his first, DUI too. Yes. You are responsible for that. Instead of everyone going home to talk about your death with their spouses, they decided to stop at the Pub you used to have lunch at, to deal withs the pain. Had he gone home and cried in his wife’s arms, well, he wouldn’t need a Pointer when HE dies.  You get to feel that, when I POINT it out. Oh, and you get to feel the glee in Cheryl’s brain. She wants your job so much she can taste it. She knows she is the best qualified, and would be better at your job then you were. The only problem was, she didn’t know your Boss considered you a friend too. Since she doesn’t have any friends, to her, people are tools to be used to climb the Corporate Ladder, and she has been climbing like it was an escalator. Over the wrecked careers of many a coworker…I sure wouldn’t want to be her Pointer…it is going to be a long, long, long day for the Pointer who gets her death.

Not only do I point out how you could have driven “defensively” without getting defensive, I POINT it out, in detail. So much detail that you see the life you would have had, had you not gotten out of the car, or slammed on your brakes, or given that guy the finger. I also point out how your seven year old daughter cries herself to sleep. How on Daddy/Daughter day, she stands silently in a corner, crying inside, but not outside. She has no tears left to shed. I POINT and you see how angry she is with you for abandoning her. She is only seven, and her anger is nothing compared to your wife’s. For your wife knows how you died. She knows exactly how you get behind the car. She TOLD you a million times: “Let it go Honey. He is just a bad driver. I am the only one who can hear you. ” I POINT to the feelings of fear she has when you are driving. She is afraid for you, and her daughter in the back seat in the car seat. I POINT out that you never cared, when you were behind the wheel, you were the MAN. Well, you weren’t much of one, and I POINT that out too. Years later, when your daughter can’t even remember you, and how, at her Wedding,  (age 35, first and only marriage) she sat quietly with Brian, her step dad of more than 25 years (Yes, your wife remarried, less than 2 years after you died. ).  I POINT out to you their conversation where she says: “….no Dad, you deserve to walk me down that aisle. I barely remember my biological Dad. For me, you are, and always will be- my Dad. ” They hug. They leave the room holding hands. I POINT that out to you too.

Oh sure, there are some good things to POINT out. But, that isn’t a job of a Pointer. OUR job is to point out what could have been, should have been, and would have been, if only you had thought for a second. Our job, is to prepare you for your next existence in TIME. Oh, not on Earth. You missed that chance.  Creation never stops. There are new Universes popping up all the time, with new worlds in them, and new “people” on them. If you learn from a POINTING  session, there is a good chance you will be sent to one of them. I hope so. I can’t wait to become a POINTER PLUS…those are the ones who get to work with people while they are living. THOSE angels have an impact now. They have many restrictions, like they can only POINT at critical junctures, and surprisingly to you mortals, at seemingly innocuous moments, like picking a flower, or holding a door, or helping quiet a baby for a young mother. I can’t wait to be one of those POINTERS.

Okay, now let me point out where that first bullet goes. I must warn you: THIS IS GOING TO HURT.


If you didn’t watch TV this week , here are some things you would know:

If you watched TV this week, you know a lot about a lot of people you never met. You had discussions ranging from racism, to racy photo’s of old billionaires, and the sad affect of Depression on famous folks. You also had some ugly thoughts or conversations over those same issues. In short: ugly, brutal, sorry, disgusting, shameful, and sad…crammed down your throats, thoughts, and feelings, for hours. Ahh…but what if YOU DID NOT WATCH TV THIS WEEK?

Oh, then you may have found solace outdoors. You may have made a small knitting project come to fruition. Maybe, just maybe, you got a small stroller for your two year old toddler’s baby dolly, for one dollar, at a garage sale. When you gave it to her, maybe , just maybe you got to watch in delight, as she strapped said baby in safely, covered her with a snuggly, and proceeded to make endless laps through the living room, kitchen, and dining room, smiling the whole time. Maybe you had to hold the groceries for a 94 year old lady as she crossed a busy parking lot, only to hear her say:  ” I am 94, so don’t take this a the wrong way, but, would you like to get a cup of coffee with me? If you hit on me, I am out of there.” LOL

Or maybe, you went to the beach with ten friends and relatives, watching kids who have never seen the ocean try and learn to body board, or surf. The intensity with which they try to get up on the board, and the huge laughter when they don’t succeed. Or maybe you talked with an old friend for a few hours, and found out he doesn’t remember most of his High School Classmates, because he was in Love. LOL (Remember when your true love was the focus of your entire life? )You would know how the spider on your porch is doing, since you haven’t gotten rid of her web since she put it up on May 2nd.

You would know that your niece and daughter read everyone of the Divergent books, and you watched the movie with them. Or you might know that your kids recognized which comic book characters you read as a kid- so, they take you to see: “Guardians of the Galaxy.” You roll, and cheer, and hoot, and laugh, and love every single song. Even if you had to explain what a Sony Walkman was, and how  much music a cassette tape held.

You might even delight in watching your wife’s smile, and feel the comfort of her hand in yours. Or, you might know about the meteor shower that you meant to stay up and watch, but, alas…you fell asleep. Oh, but not before you went out and looked at the night sky, and remembered your first telescope , seeing the moon for the first time through it, and sputnik circling the earth when you were six years old. Oh yeah, you would know a lot, if you didn’t watch TV this week.

re: ” A funny thing happened on the way to week fourteen…”

A funny thing happened on the way to week fourteen; I found: peace.

Not just peace, but a sense of soft contentment earned by hard tears. What I found , was this: I have loved, and been loved. I have failed, and succeeded. I have given my best and knew it. I have not given my best, and knew it. I have wronged, and asked for forgiveness. I have been wronged, and forgiven. I have been stupid, silly, daring, and courageous, often, in the same day. I have been kind, shallow, mean, and deep, often, in the same day. I am not the man I was, nor the man I could have been.I am not even the man I thought I would be, yet, I am still- a man.


I have cried tears of happiness, and of sadness. I have lost while alive, and lost some to whatever is next. Grief has found me in many ways, but not in as many ways as joy has found me. I have comforted others in their hour of need, and held small babies so that their mother could sleep, and I had a mother who held me too. I have a family, and one of my own, and they like me just the way I am.

Yes, a funny thing happened on the way to week fourteen, I found I had lived my life, with all that came my way- and if I screwed up a couple of things, or let them fester, I own them now. In fact, everything I am, is because of everything I did…and when I hug, it is open and honest, and trusting, even after sixty odd years. A funny thing happened on the way to week fourteen- I found peace. Smiles, Kevin

re: The March of Times…


Aloha Tim,

 Nowhere -in my imagination, which is a pretty large place, could I ever have imagined walking my grand daughter on a beach. Time, just continues onward, and in only one direction. When I first met you, back in 1999, I had two kids in High School. LOL  No Son in Laws, No Grand Babies, and…I was a working man. LOL

  I am truly in those Golden Years, my body really doesn’t want to do the kind of training and work it did early in life. I am still active, and I guess, for my age, extremely active- yet, I find myself curiously separated from most of what I used to think was important. I like my quiet time, I like my social time – what there is of it. I savor my friendships like most folks appreciate a fine wine. I revel in the accomplishments of others, with no drive left to accomplish things on my own.

 I don’t believe aging is only a physical process. I think the body has done it work already, the mind has proved it can work at warp speed, and as we age, we slow down enough to think, to enjoy, to live in a moment without a thought about the next moment. We do this without meditation. For we meditate most of the day, although it looks to younger people as if we are living in the past, or separating ourselves from the future. We aren’t.

 What we are doing, is looking back at the moments of our lives, without malice, without prejudice, without anger, or judgment. We start to appreciate our lives as a gestalt, a whole, indeed, a miracle. The amazement of having lived, the gift of life, becomes almost overwhelming. No matter what we did, or what happened to us, or what we “made” happen, it all opens itself to us free from the structure of our society, or the need for validation. We are here. That is all the validation we need.

 I have come to appreciate this subtle way of looking at life. I do think it is one of the true gifts of aging. To teeter here, on the edge of wisdom. For I believe I may becoming “wise”  - not smart- I was always that- but wise? I find half formed thoughts that are signs of that blossom of wisdom. I always wondered why so many great thinkers, late in life, sounded like Philosophers – I include you in that group too. Now, I think I know why. There is no “hurried” thought. No. There is time to search, look for, find, and understand why you are the “you” that you are now, and how you became that “you.”

  The petty concerns of life, become just that, petty concerns. A minor annoyance, as you let go of them, one by one. I find what my friend Eddie told me, way back before I retired: “Kevin, Manana becomes your mantra. With few exceptions, there is little that can’t wait until tomorrow.” He was right. He also said that you would start using what you have , instead of thinking about getting more. You aren’t going to be a millionaire, and funnily enough, you don’t want to be. LOL  If you have shelter, food, and clothes…it becomes enough. Fashion and style mean nothing. If it is clean, on it goes. LOL The thoughts of what other people will think…gone.

 This is all new to me, Tim. It is also foreign to the way my mind worked for most of my life. I am enjoying watching it unfold. There are passages in life, and sometimes, you can’t just skip ahead, you have to move through those passages , and only time will open the portal to some of them. I am at the beginning of those timely portals. I understand my life may end soon, not in a morbid way, not in a scary way, but in a simple understanding of having lived long enough to know that dying is natural. LOL

  I do want to continue to live a long healthy life, to see if this Wisdom thing actually grows. I also love the perspective of being able to watch a young family, and know I was once a young family member. To know that all their worries and fears, are mostly unfounded. They are good people, and will continue to be so. That most of their fears will not come true, and the few that do, they will deal with, and move on, for time will make that so.

 Someday, as they enter their Golden years, they will look back, as I am now, and… smile. A soft, loving, warm, and open smile. One free of angst, guilt, shame, or regret. Life. Loving. Laughing.  May we all go to “L.” LOL

Smiles Kevin


re: Happy, the song, the video, the experience, and the moments. Happy, an email I sent to one of my oldest friends…with some editing. LOL

Aloha All,

This post is about Happy. Yep. It sound hokey, but it isn’t. Happy sparkles. I wrote this to a friend of more than fifty years, and that alone makes me Happy. Knowing I have two friends who have been friends for fifty years! How lucky. My wife, Kathy, is my absolute best friend, and has been for 35 years. And that makes me Happy too! So, here is the email. I edited some parts,because they are not for everyone, but the gist of the email …is! Smiles, Kevin


Hey Kid,

 I was watching the original video of that song “Happy”, by Pharrell Williams-who is like 41 and looks 20 something. On the side of the youtube video list it showed an interview with Oprah. So, I went and watched that little clip. Well, when they both watch how many millions of people turned that video and those simple dance steps into their own version of “Happy,” it made Pharell cry. From unknown, to affecting the lives of millions- what does that feel like? You talk about validation. He had a “Happy Cry!” One of humility, of disbelief, of overwhelm at watching his work mean something. He is a creative person, and to see people get creative off of his creativity…what must that feel like? Oh, yeah. Happy!  Of course the comment section showed the ugly side of a whole lot of people real quickly- but the real life affect of that song is mind bending.

 Nobody wanted to play it on the air- Pharrell got turned down so many times, he just decided to put it up on YouTube as a video. In three days…three days kid, it hit millions. Then, people started making their own versions, using his music as the soundtrack, but shooting pictures of them being happy. Firemen, soldiers, street people, young girls, young guys, old girls and guys. People from Africa, Europe, Asia, South America, Iceland (yep, Iceland!lol)

  No wonder he cried. There is even an International Happy Day now. And all the money raised goes to improving people’s lives in little ways. An elderly woman gets enough money to visit her sister she hasn’t seen in thirty years. A five year old gets a bike. A Single Mother gets a years supply of diapers. Stuff that most of us don’t even think about – or what a difference it would make to have, say a T-shirt with your name on it- it is your only shirt.

  I tell you, it made me Happy to watch Happy…it seems hokey in a way. Just simple lyrics, and some fun dance steps- yet, it struck a chord with so many folks who wanted their “happy” to show.  When I think of you, it makes me smile. When I see Kathy come home at night, it makes me smile. When I talk to my friends, it makes me smile. When my daughter came over last night to print something out (her printer is broken) I watched as she worked on the computer, and mumbled to herself; she accidentally sent what she wanted to print to her work account, and she can only access that on her work computer- luckily, after a bit, she figured it out, her husband emailed it to her over here and she got to print it out. While she was doing all this, I watched her face change from concentration, to what is going on, to did I do that?

  It made me smile. When my other daughter and I, talked, a real talk. You know the ones you are lucky to get into with your children. Where you are all equals. Anyways during that talk, she laughed, she got serious, she told me a few things I didn’t know, and she trusted me to keep my mouth shut. I learned a lot from her that day, about being a mother, about being a wife, about being a person. It made me “happy.”

  Sometimes it is big moments that make you stop and smile, and be happy. When I sent you those pictures from back in the day, and that one picture taken in your little dining room…it is because of the little things that show up in it. Little things are happy things too. Happy is a joy to look at.  I have a picture of Kathy taken about 8 years into our marriage. It is simply her sitting in a tiny sports car our friends let us use. You couldn’t open the doors, you had to climb in, and you couldn’t put the top up, it was broken. When we started out, it was sunny, but we got caught in a cloudburst. So much water in the car we had to bail it out at a gas station, because it was waist deep…in the car!  Well, as I bailed it out, Kathy was sitting there , in the car, soaked, and putting on lipgloss with a big smile on her face. I love that picture. She was Happy that moment. Just like the recent one I sent where she was driving the river boat. Honest happiness, sparkles. On the water, or in it, Happy was everywhere. Think for a moment, back to when you were a kid, or young person, remember? Remember when getting soaking wet, or caught in the rain, wasn’t a bother, but made you Happy?! LOL

Smiles, Kev


re: An email from a friend…and it brings up so many things. To me, this is the opening to a great conversation…with donuts! LOL


Kevin of Carolina,

X has always been a complainer.

Not that X wasn’t correct about complaints.

The world is an awful place…filled with loathsome people.

And, let’s face it, life isn’t fair.

Not by a long shot.

I knew X would never be happy—no matter how good things got. X doesn’t even exist, X is a composite of stories over the years.

I think we’re all at least a little bit this way.

We seek greener grass and more clement climes.

But we have to recognize that no place is perfect.

No situation will be wholly blissful.

As Marcel Proust put it:  The only true paradise…is paradise lost.

I kick myself for not becoming “a man of science.”

Really, that was my dream…when I got a Gilbert microscope set at the age of eleven.

I wanted to cure cancer, the common cold, and male-pattern baldness (not necessarily in that order).

But I came to realize that no matter how much I accomplished, it would never be enough.

X is the same way.

When X complains, I listen and nod.

But I don’t make suggestions.

I do ask questions, such as, “Would you rather be doing something else?”

Long ago, I learned that there are many things to run from.

But there are precious few things to run to.

Every once in a while, in the silly stories I write, I talk about a perfect place to be.

But even if you could find such a place, you’d never know what was coming around the corner.

There’s always someone ready with a monkey wrench.

My idea of Heaven for you is a round table, at which are sitting four of the wittiest and finest minds in the universe.

Atop the table would be a never-ending selection of doughnuts.

A waiter would be on-hand to keep delivering hot chocolates (with whipped cream toppings, of course).

But I might be all wrong about that.

This might not be your version of Heaven.

I do know you like talking to people.

I know you love to read.

I know you love to exercise your mind and body.

I know you love Kathy.

I know you love your family.

But how do you roll all of those “loves” together to make the perfect recipe for happiness?

And what are the best amounts and combinations?

Much of ancient Greek philosophy concerns the search for happiness (“happiness” being “the highest good”).

If we assume this to be true, how do we go about finding happiness?

Do we simply do what feels good—and let the chips fall where they may?

Obviously not; that’s too simple.

And what if the Greeks were wrong.

What if “having a purpose” is the highest good?

What if “serving humankind” is the highest good?

What if “eating doughnuts” is the highest good?

It could be, you know.

In the best of all possible worlds, it would be.

Perhaps all we can best do is “live in the moment.”

And live each moment to the fullest.

And be a decent human being in the process.

I’m just saying.


re: Thoughts in no particular order…and man, I hate TV….LOL

I can’t believe the number and maliciousness of comments I overheard at the gym today, about some poor soldier being returned home. All of it was hearsay, and opinion. Not an ounce of mercy, understanding, or empathy. It made me sick to my stomach. Yesterday, I worked out so hard, and so fast, just so I could get out of the gym, and away from the blaring visual pollution. I wonder why, it is so difficult for people to understand that every single sound bite  they hear, or see, has been edited before they even saw it? That issues aren’t simple, and they don’t always come with two minute answers. That no one knows what it is like to be in someone else’s shoes, until you are in that position. I call it : “Talking out their ass.” Believe me, over the last two days, I have heard a whole bunch of it.

I know nothing, and I know it. Who knew that would ever give me an advantage. People act like they have lived in Afghanistan for their whole lives, understand the mentality , the language, the customs and the religion, and the family set up. They act like they know Constitutional Law, were privy to high level meetings, and have the actual facts of what went down, when and where. What the mind state of another person is, both before, and after he went to war. Mindless, pointless, ignorant opinion. I mean it is bad enough when I see a woman, one with no children tell how “easy” it is to raise babies, to a woman who has two children under the age of three. I smile at the innocent ignorance. When I hear a man tell a woman what it is like, well, the smile becomes a smirk. “No way buddy. ”  Sure you can know facts. I know bunches of them. Like this one: in 40 degree ocean water, you have about five minutes of strength, and then, well, ten minutes left in life.  I knew that for years…as an approximation. Then, under controlled circumstance, I jumped into water that cold…and well, I now KNOW what immersion in cold water means, and feels like. After first getting in the fetal position, I got in one real swim stroke, and the second stroke, was weaker, the third stroke was just slapping water. Luckily, warm blankets and ready help was right there. And that was in a pool, what the heck is it like in ten foot seas?  Ever see those Polar Bear dips, up in the Great Lakes or in Minnesota ? There is a reason they are called: “dips”, because no one stand still, or stays in. Even in the ones where you can stand up, with only your waist, and below, in the ice cold water can put you in shock. Alone, falling through a crack in the ice, well, most folks wouldn’t have a prayer.

On the upside, I had a great bike ride with my bride today. We got lost, or discovered a new way not to get there, your choice. LOL My prostate is the size of a small cantaloupe, but, other than that, two hours wandering through pine covered running and hiking paths, on a bike, made for a fun filled hilarious game of : “You said this was a short cut.”  “Well, there is one here, somewhere.” We ran into a young lady with her big dog, and asked if there was an actual street at the end of one of these paths in the woods. She said: “Oh, yes! But, I just follow my dog, he always gets us out of here.”  We laughed until we cried. We didn’t have a dog. LOL

I also got to see my grand daughter, and I got to help out my wife a bit, by doing some laundry, and making the beds, and sweeping the floors, and doing the dishes, so she could go help my daughter get ready for the birth of her second child, sometime in the next few weeks. So, the made up News stories and horrible rhetoric got shuffled to the background, because I had actual people in my life, whom I know, love and cherish. So, I did. Smiles, Kevin


re: And so, I say, by Kevin Hughes

And so, I say,

I love watching my wife pilot a river boat, with the glee and elegant innocence of a child, with gay abandon, and complete immersion in her task, I saw – JOY.

Can you have that moment with your head down, or ear buds in? Or by yourself gaming? Or listening to music that has nothing to do with being on a river?

And so, I say: Lift your head up, take your buds out, and look, listen, engage in the life around you.

I talked with two old people a few days ago, who had a bad fight on their wedding day- and they left the church, the guests, and each other.Fifty four years passed until they found each other again, and they got married on the exact date- fifty four years to the day, of their original wedding date. In between, she was married for a long time, he was married for a brief time. They have been married for 12 years now, and that story was told by both of them. How did I meet them, you might ask?

And so, I say:
I started a conversation, just pleasant innocuous stuff, and then, they told me their story. A smile, a brief hello, and then an hour long chat, because I made eye contact, spoke to them, and listened. Sometimes, it isn’t as nice a story, but that still gives you something to talk about when it goes South. And so , I say: Talk to People, learn how to converse. Learn how to listen. Learn how to share. Make mistakes with embarrassing consequences, and apologize for them. Try again.

And so, I say:

When you don’t watch TV, or you don’t read newspapers, and you live your own life, engaged in your life, you find many many things that are going well. You can watch a sunset, without thinking about death, or destruction, or bigotry, or opinions based on little more than hearsay, and innuendo. You can forget all the messy horrible stuff that happens, but it didn’t happen to you, or yours. You can withhold your judgement, your fury, your depression over the news from ever being triggered. By simply living your life.

And so, I say:

Spend days making memories, being you. Loving, learning, laughing, relaxing, playing, and, if necessary, being serious, or contemplative, or even ponder if you have too, but only about the things, or people that you can actually affect, or interact with. You do make a difference, you are making a difference by just being you, to the folks who know you.

And so, I say:


“How do you live without TV?” Really? HOW DO I LIVE? A short rant in G minor (my speaking voice when befuddled)…

“How do you live, without TV?”
I stared for a few moments, then realized that the three people talking with me, two men and a woman, were serious. Genuinely curious.
“Well, I live. I eat, read, talk, go for long walks, takes courses on the Internet in a variety of subjects, take several Great Courses, on DVD (no grade, no pressure, no time limit). I go for long walks both by myself, and with Kathy. I help out with an old restored WW II bomber. I get into conversations as often as I can. I listen to music, and even watch YouTube for instructions on certain things, or to watch video of people flying the kinds of plane I do, to airports I want to go. I write…a lot, to a lot of different folks. I think quite often. I laugh, I cry, I have mostly wonderful days, long delicious days with lots of solitude, and company when I need it. I clean house, do dishes, sweep floors, make the bed, so Kathy only has to work at her job.
I play with cats, and dogs, and often watch squirrels, trees, or bodies of water. I walk on the beach. I stare at the night sky. I reminisce about my life, my times, my past.
I enjoy my day. I guess, I live my life, my way, every day.”
“Oh, how boring. You don’t even know about the Duck people. Nor do you keep up with current events. You are not living, you are hiding.”
I smiled.

RE: Failure in two areas…

Aloha Gang,
Well, I flunked my Harvard Exam by 1.8 points. But, I took it all from Memory, and almost four weeks after I finished all the modules, with no review. For that, I am pretty proud. Had I used the resources as they advised, well, I would have definitely passed. I wanted to see what I “KNEW”, and in that I succeeded. In real life though, no Grad School for me. LOL
That is the failure that was okay for me. I had fun, I did learn, and I know more than I did, not enough t pass a test, but , a heck of a lot more than I did. Plus, I got to read the Posts from lots, and lots, of wizards. So even though I failed the exam, I give the participation and connections a 100%!
The sad part. When I as doing my fast walk this morning, one of my friends drove her car up to me and waved me to stop. She asked me if I knew the guy with the shiny black muscle car? (Remember him? I wrote a little email about him asking me to join him for a soda a few days back) .
I said I knew of him…she said:
“He passed away last night.” She doesn’t know why, or the circumstances- but she will email me them when she finds out.
I thanked her. Then I continued my fast walk. Thinking about the two interactions, and two waves I had with that man. The first was when he asked me to share a soda. I was so wrapped up in accomplishing my goal of fast walking, I didn’t take him up on it.
You all know how I felt about that. I talked to Kathy, and all of you, and I told her- and you guys, if I meet him again, I am stopping for the soda, or at least water.
Just two days ago, he passed me coming out of our street – as he had two other times before, and all I did was wave. Well, two days ago, when he waved, I waved him to slow down- he stopped, and I said to him: “Next time I see you polishing your car, I will stop by.”
He said: “Stop by anytime. I have plenty of sodas. Diet.” And he laughed.
He beeped and drove off.
And that is the sum total of our interactions. I wonder, had I just stopped and chatted that first time- would I now be mourning a new friend’s passing? Instead of mourning a missed opportunity?
I guess, if you have a chance to talk with someone, even a stranger, take it. If you really like someone, and have always been “meaning too” give them a call, or a note, or an email…well, do it. Otherwise, like me, you will always wonder, what kind of sodas he had, and what would we have talked about.
I wish him well, in whatever place he is in now. His shiny car, sits in his driveway, and it is perfectly maintained. And its driver will never ride in it again.
Kevin the somber mood person, who is going for a long bike ride to clear his mind…

Sent from my iPad