Love and Life

moms and orbits

Orbits Metaphorically

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Earlier, when I got out of bed I thought to myself that this would be a good day to ride my bike. I will still do that but as I freshened up and ate breakfast and exchanged a few short text messages with Debbie I became more contemplative.

Today I write first, bike later. Originally when I started this essay I did not know where it was going. My mind went to the pleasantness of yesterday. Here comes a cosmic twist on family dynamics.

Yesterday was interesting. Debbie and I went to lunch and afterwards looked for a couple of books in the bookstore. Afterward I took her back home because she had another gathering to go to in the late afternoon. We spent about an hour or so in her living room talking with two of her children. It seems as though they’re becoming more comfortable with my presence. Her kids have her as the center of their life sphere. I suppose that’s both good and bad. She is the center of their existence, at least, these days anyway. The youngest one may have a hard time breaking free from orbit and the older one will probably be fine. It is merely that she is going through a rough patch in her life.

Life moves on. As parents we help where we can. It is much harder to back away when we need to. It is a delicate balance. It is a lot of little things. I can remember in my own life that my father was resistant to me buying lunch even though at the time he was retired and I was gainfully employed. In the particular instance I am thinking about I had to wrestle the check away from him. Later I let him pay. As often as I might visit mom and dad in their later years I was always their little boy. It seems to me that that never really changes.

Even now when I think about my life without Cheryl, without my parents, without my brother, without my youngest sister, it is easy for me to perceive of myself as someone smaller or younger than I actually am. When my Mom was at the end of her life sometimes she would say to me, I need a mother. I think it was her way of saying to me she didn’t really want to be in charge of it all anymore. That is a mother’s job being in charge of it all. Even when mothers do not think they are in charge, they are in charge. That must be why kids gravitate towards them even later in life when they are older in their 60s. Their 90 year old mother is still in charge. Mothers are the core of the family.

I am beginning to understand what Mom meant. Admitting to myself that I don’t know what I don’t know can be terrifying. When Mom was here I could ask her. Even today there are things that I wish I could ask her about. Some days I think I have forgotten how independent she made me. She was good at that.

And yesterday as I observed Debbie interacting with her kids I realized how good Debbie is at that. She is the center of their universe. Eventually everyone fires their engines up and leaves orbit.

The universe is unfolding as it should. It is a big scary place, made less so, so long as the home planet can be returned to for a visit.

Carpe Diem.

Connections and Disconnections

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Mike has passed away, as polite or timid people say. I did not know him well. We had mutual employment at an old line Cincinnati company many years ago. I ran into him later on in life at some family gathering. He was married to the sister of my sister-in-law through marriage to my deceased wife’s brother. A third order connection to be sure but nevertheless I had known him in life. And I had known that he was dying. His death was unreported through whatever little grapevine I have left.

I felt an odd feeling of disconnectedness.

A couple of years ago I learned of my aunt’s death from the U. S. postal service. Not in the way that you might imagine. The USPS told me by returning my Christmas card that I had sent the previous December. The card returned sometime in March.

I remember feeling not anger but a disconnectedness. Perhaps a year or two previously I had called the only number I had to report the death of my mother to her only surviving sister. Aunt Ruth’s daughter my cousin Jean answered the phone. We had not talked to each other since childhood so I explained who I was and what I wanted to tell Aunt Ruth. (Maybe I had a little anger. I reached out to the west to report Mom’s death.) It was about a year and a half later that the postal service made their report to me.

I have thought about this disconnectedness that occurs in families before. There are many causes; distance both physical and mental, disinterest, religion, age, death.

When Mom was still alive and still moving around pretty good, I asked if she would like to go visit her sister Ruth. Aunt Ruth lived in Las Cruses New Mexico and they had lived there for a long time. She had met my Uncle Dick when they were both in the service. Uncle Dick had, among other duties, flown helicopters in Vietnam. They settled in New Mexico after he left the service. Mom and Dad had visited with them in a past life after I had moved out of their house and moved into our house with Cheryl.

Mom entertained that idea for a minute or so and replied no. I said, “Mom, what if I called her on the phone?” No. I did not press the plan. (Disinterest, distance)

Family connection would have possibly helped with the feeling of disconnectedness that I felt when Aunt Ruth’s card returned. I doubt that I would have mailed a card had I known of her death.

Family connection would have gone a long way towards removing the embarrassing, to me anyway, question of; Hey! I knew Mike was very ill. Did he die? (Not asked very well but how does one ask such a sad question?)

For a few months off and on after Aunt Ruth’s card returned I questioned my sister and poked around on social media and other ways of searching out information that did not require joining 23andMe. I was looking for connection to Aunt Ruth’s remaining daughters, my cousins.

Although I did spend money with one of those find anybody anywhere services, nothing came of it other than me forgetting to unsignup after the free trial period. Unilateral family connection is tiring and the lopsidedness of it is not satisfying.

Our church gave away these Easter books to hopefully enliven the catholicity of the parishes as they grow smaller. I admit that I am not the best Catholic. I fact I think of myself as a kind of Buddhist catholic who selects much of the spirituality but is uninterested in the rigor and seemingly arbitrary structure. I am still searching. For what I am searching, I am unsure but hope and optimism are more satisfying than longing and despair. Yesterday this little tome revealed itself amid the pile of books near my nesting spot in the living area. I opened it in the middle at random and this heading, “Love Rearranges Our Priorities” said – Read me. Read me!

It starts this way, “Have you ever noticed that when people fall in love, their priorities change? If a close friend falls in love, you will probably notice that she has less time to spend with you because her priority is to spend more time with her love interest. It is not personal. It is natural and normal. Why? Love rearranges our priorities. And our priorities reveal who and what we love.” The rest of the paragraphs wander off and talk about more churchy ideas but this first paragraph describes the whole lesson – love arranges our priorities.

I think the disconnectedness I feel is more aptly described as love’s focus is forward toward new connections. My priority is my new connection with Debbie. (The physics metaphor is – for every action there is an equal and opposite reaction.) For every new connection there is a mostly equal disconnection. Or that is my newly philosophized personal canon. The rest of that thought is the mostly equal disconnection is unknown when the new connection is established. (I will need some time to wade though where those thoughts are taking me.)

Connections and interconnections within and without family groups are complicated. They are both weak and strong, sweet and savory, smooth and bumpy, happy and sad, multifaceted and lopsided. There is an odd disconnectedness feeling that I feel with Cheryl’s family. I feel a strong connectedness to my sister as we are the last of our core group. We are all very different in our abilities to connect and maintain those connections. I feel a strong connectedness with Debbie so much so that I ask her questions about her kiddos and her day and how she feels about this, what does she think about that. I have even reached out directly to her daughter (who is dealing with a never ending undiagnosable malady) for an update. That is either nosy or connection – the jury is still out.

Personal connection is not replaced by digital connection.

Looking forward and glancing in the rear view mirror is something I do consistently when I am riding my bicycle down the trail. It is or should be a metaphor for connecting down the trail of life.

Carpe Diem.

Is This Fly Shit or is it Pepper?

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Is this fly shit or is it pepper?

And old friend and I used to have this discussion after various business meetings. His point was always shrouded in “Is this important or is this merely seasoning?” I for one was enthralled with that question (fly feces or seasoning) and the comparison itself. Both seemed important to me but for different reasons. Both were good metaphors for events as they about to or were happen(ing).

Fly shit seems like something that you would not want in your food and one might strive to determine which specks were those, so that, they could be removed. If you are focused on the fly poop you probably will not enjoy your meal. I posit that one might not taste their meal simply due to a narrow focus on insignificant droppings. One might also choose to only eat white foods and season them after close inspection. One might only use salt to season their food.

I think that is a boring way to eat. Salty meringue seems less than satisfactory, maybe even, unfortunate. To me that seems, also, a boring way to live life.

The universe is full of specks. Many of which are there for an intended purpose. Many are there merely for seasoning but even the fecal matter matters. Sometimes flys will land on the carrots or broccoli.

Looking backward through life I see a lot of pepper and other spices. I know that there are other things that do not fit that category with exactness. I do not focus on those. I do not look back with sadness and loss. Cheryl and I had a great time. More and more I envision the good times, the great times. More and more it occurs to me that the fly shit is merely something to be disregarded as wrinkles in the fabric of the universe. It was (is) events and things and times for learning and growth to happen. It is more life to be embraced.

I thank the universe for that opportunity. (Now, maybe not then.)

Yesterday our grief share focus was on being stuck in grief and ways to break out of that stuckness. In other words fly shit. Embrace it. It is hard to do but embrace it with enthusiasm given to other more embraceable events: birthday parties, holidays, vacation trips, the list goes on. Allow new connections to develop.

I made a new connection. I tell myself I was not looking for another new relationship but apparently I was. It is definitely all pepper and spice with a little fly shit here and there. Flys do not seem to eat much. The spices overwhelm the other things.

Carpe the damn Diem (and do not forget the Herbs de Provence.)

from https://premeditatedleftovers.com/blog/

Holy Cow It is March 30th

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And it is soon to be March31st.

Debbie, et al. is stuck in the great state of spring break. Allegiant air has disappointed them by changing days for their return flight. Oh well, that is part of the excitement of breaking. She went there with two kids and three grand kids. She is still there.

The universal flight constant was out of alignment with their travel plans.

There are many of these constants constantly cramping various plans humans make for themselves.

A cynical comment is “Man plans. God laughs.” It has several variations but always ends with god laughs. I find it disappointing to believe in a creator who laughs at you. I much prefer a creator who laughs with you.

The universe did not laugh at us when Cheryl and I imagined our future full of travel and good times. A future that was full of family and mirth. A trip hoped for and planned for to Alaska had a little rain and funny towel sculptures. Life had birthday parties and grand kids graduations, dance competitions and valedictorians, surprise visits. We laughed together. We had fun together. Laughed with.

The universe has a vision. Details are in the pixels. Finite divisions of the view are defined by various constants.

Many, many years ago I took a couple photography classes. One of the things we talked about was how color images and black & white images are printed. Tiny little dots (pixels) are used to do this. Our own eyes do this to convey information to the brain and it constructs a view of the world which is remarkably uniform and complete. Our brains are complex and rapid computers. The details are in the pixels but the brain extrapolates that discrete information into our view of the world.

We have vision. We should stay focused on the view. Universal constants realign with the vision. And the universe although unraveling, is doing so as it will.

Debbie et al. will be home soon. The flight tracker app shows her little airplane in the air over the gee in Georgia. The universe is laughing (maybe giggling is a better word) with me. She will be home soon.

Carpe Diem.

Unraveling

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things are unraveling as they should

are they.…?

I have been thinking about this paraphrase that Debbie has used many times in our conversations. “And whether or not it is clear to you, no doubt the universe is unfolding as it should.” is the line from the final stanza of Desiderata by Max Ehrmann written almost 100 years ago. I use it on the masthead of my blog. It is a calming peaceful poem. His view of the universe is much like mine a view from increased years. Some would say from wisdom. My years are more increased than his when he wrote it.

A principle of thermodynamics is that the entropy of the universe is always increasing. Debbie, when she says unraveling, is speaking a clearer pragmatic practical truth about our universe. It is unraveling as it should or more correctly as it will. Some would say God’s will. I does not matter as the unraveling happens on its own. Embrace it.

One should be aware of impending doom. Reporters of the weather often drill this concept to the masses of their audience. Aware but do not fret over it. In the case of weather, use the information to dress accordingly. Other situations present other doom scenarios. Prepare as best you can and then move on with your life. Progressive insurance tells you to bundle your home and auto insurance. I do just not with them. Boy scouts say be prepared. (yada yada yada)

It is a mistake to base your entire world view on no more than your own experiences. Max Ehrmann admonishes us to: Speak your truth quietly and clearly; and listen to others, even to the dull and the ignorant; they too have their story. That is advice I got from my own father long ago. Less elegantly, he said, you should listen to the other guy even if you think he is a jerk because he might actually have a good idea. My dad was a really smart and practical guy. Sometimes I miss conversing with him. It is important to talk to people who do not share your life philosophy, that was his point.

Be yourself. Especially do not feign affection. Neither be cynical about love; for in the face of all aridity and disenchantment, it is as perennial as the grass. Another line from Max, “aridity and disenchantment”, I read as highs and lows. Every love has that in it. (Give and take – if you like that better.)

Perhaps Debbie and I should sit and remaster Desiderata for our time together. Or perhaps not. The words are a philosophy for the spiritual but unchurched, for the Buddhists in a Catholic body like me.

Carpe Diem.

Wishes and Hope and Doubt

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HOPE IS A WISH

I use “Carpe Diem” as a sign off to posts that I put here. A few nights ago as Debbie and I were talking over the phone about random topics, she pointed out to me that for me the use of that phrase is a wish. I responded that I think of it as a motto and that spiraled my thought process into analyzing what that phrase meant to me and why I use it as a motto.

A motto is a brief sentence phrase or a single word used to express a principle, goal or ideal – a maxim. This is from my big dict (The American Heritage Dictionary of the English Language) which I got from my mother many years ago. The online Merriam-Webster lists proverb as a synonym in their thesaurus section.

Debbie expressed the thought that I use it in the sense of a hope to remain in the present and to remain present to what life brings me. She is right again. I sometimes say to her teasingly that I hate it when she is right but I forget she studied sociological things in school.

Life or, as I like to think, the universal consciousness has brought Debbie into my life. She is a sounding board for ideas of mine and I am of hers. It is curious to me how similar and dissimilar our lives have been before we met. We attended the same schools. Her kiddos and my kiddos attended the same schools. Those are similarities. She chose psychology and sociological studies. I chose engineering, science and technological studies and later in life, education studies. Those are dissimilarities.

Engineers tend to think, plan, organize and prepare for some future activity – an installation, construction, machine, infrastructure – with things. I am always on the hunt for a manual to fix things (and situations), an extrinsic solution. Sociologists work with people – people as they are now. They help them to find their solutions within themselves.

Staying present is hard for me personally. So, seizing the current moment, especially when Cheryl’s disease was getting worse, finding something to do then at that moment, while she was doing good, became incredibly important. I constantly told myself, find what works today.

In that frame of mind I took myself to that first meet up with Debbie over coffee in a coffee house ran by a church group. I seized that moment, that fear of trying something new in my life, and pushed myself out of the doldrums of grief. You do not know if you are ready until you try it.

It worked. So far it is an ecstatic experience with Debbie; conversations about anything and everything, movies and dinner afterwards, fun little field trips, and just talking and flirting on the phone, she is special to me and at the same time I have a niggling fear of that happiness dissipating.

It is a fact that the last person I felt this way with is gone now. I cannot ignore that aspect. Debbie and I talk about that too.

We have now. My hope is our happiness will last until I am no longer. That idea is selfish. It is a wish, however. So far it is a wish fulfilled. (There is the niggling fear again.)

Carpe Diem.

What If?

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Once in a while, not very often, but once in a while when someone I care for says something that piques my interest, I think, what if? This time around it was Midwest Mary who in a chat about writing fiction she said, fiction is when you play what if with reality. That comment spiraled my mind into lalaland. It may never come back. I have been thinking about that on and off all day for the past several and to me “what if” falls into the category of second guessing one’s own decisions and actions in life.

But what if the reality of those decisions and actions cause a different reality to develop. Second guessing reality. Those three words seem to suggest all sorts of outcomes.

Recently the newsy folks, the Congress of the United States, some guy in New Jersey and a lot of people who do not look at the night sky leaped to the conclusion that Iranian drones were spying on people and activities in New Jersey and southern Florida and to avoid detection those drones had their running lights on. What if? Are we about to be invaded or attacked by Iran? This sounds a bit like a Stephen King story. (One of my favorite story tellers is Stephen. He makes me interested in going to Maine for something other than chowder.) A better question might be why? But asking why the Iranians might be standing off shore of New Jersey flying drones to spy on us and looking to see if President-elect Trump putts out or just picks up, takes away from a good fictional story.

Maybe I am too clinical as I think about background, situations and possibilities. The Martian is a great book and was made into a great movie. A what if. The atmosphere on Mars is so light that a violent storm is pretty much like turning on the ceiling fan in my bedroom on low. Beyond that though, all the rest of the actions are believable as reality. Great story tellers are not concerned with this reality. They are making a new reality in the story. Mary has a strong argument. (Thank you, Mary for making me think about the ordinary and extraordinary.)

I do not live on Mars.

I have no desire to be there. I exist in this world and I am unable to imagine another so no doubt I will not be a fiction writer. I should embrace that in myself. There is a new person in my life and life moves on into the future. This is my reality.

We first met in a coffee shop and talked for two hours or so. We were total strangers then, not so now, but we connected that first time. We have met several times to have a meal. We have eaten brunch, lunch and dinner. I have cooked for her which at the time I think surprised her. We have seen a couple movies. During one of those I reached over to hold her hand. It was a comfort to me then and it is now. We went to a bookstore and shopped for books. She is a buyer of books, I am a library borrower of books but I bought a book anyway. We are both readers of books. We met in local winery to have a glass of wine and just chat. I cannot think of a better word than connection. Between us there is a connection.

Cheryl and I connected the first time we met more than fifty years ago. That is a long time between connections. I had forgotten how important connection and conversation is to me, is to us as humans.

In between all of those meetings we exchanged many many text messages and phone calls. I am interested in her family and her life and her thoughts about stuff.

She makes me feel like a teenager. I am happy around her. I am uncomfortable around her like a teenaged boy. I say stupid teenager like things because I am less guarded in my conversation. I enjoy her conversation and she is a good friend. It is not all about her when we talk. (I try to not make it all about me when we talk.) I do not know where this is going but I do know that within myself I miss relaxed conversation about anything and everything. With Debbie’s presence I can have that conversation and comfort. I hope this feeling does not escape from me. I hope it does not escape from us.

Ten weeks or so later and I feel as though I have known her longer. I can tell her my stories without fear of boring her. She tells me her stories and I listen with great interest. We have a lifetime of stories to tell each other.

We only just met. So what is up with that? When see sends me a text message I have to respond even though it may not require a response. When we are chatting I am comfortable with her silence until a new thought appears. We tease each other like young people do – not vicious teasing, it is light, warmhearted and fun loving teasing.

Where is this going? Where are we going? I should take my own advice and Carpe the damn Diem. I will and I am. I am grateful that Deborah is seizing it with me. I am grateful that we found each other.

Carpe Diem.

When Disaster Happens

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As I was watching the news about the continuing wild fires in and around Los Angeles this morning one man was helping his father-in-law who he revealed later in an interview with Gayle King had Parkinson’s disease to get away from the fire coming down the hill. It broke my heart so I turned off the news program and thought about him and them.

In my part of the world about 10 inches of snow is sitting on everything and a couple inches is expected. Melting water is truly annoying also but not life threatening. I have heard from a couple of the residents in our little condo community about dripping water. Ice and snow build up in and on the architectural features and drip. Sometimes the drips are annoying. Welcome to home ownership.

For me the furnace quit working early in the morning with 5 inches of snow on the ground and another 5 still on the way. Nothing to be done there except put on warmer clothing. And thank the architects and builders who insulated the building properly. They did not skimp on that part. My favorite repair guy came when he was able. My girlfriend called in the morning to make sure I had not turned into a Popsicle. I slept later than usual. Cool bedrooms do that to me. (Maybe an AHA moment?)

Shit happens. (Forrest Gump.)

How we react to those situations explains what is important to us. One gentleman is helping his father-in-law who is unable to walk very well with his PD. Eventually as he tells Gayle he sat him down on his walker and pushed out of harm’s way. All the while another person is making videos with his or her smartphone.

Disaster is grim. Some people respond with help and kindness. Some people become amateur videographers. Which one will you be? Which one are you?

The furnace is working after an injection of $1100. The temperature outside froze the ice for now. The roofers will figure it out after more dollars are given. In March there will be good stories on the patios. In Los Angeles many will be arguing with the insurance companies. In the rest of the country insurance premiums will increase. The universe is unfolding as it should.

Keep calm. Make a video if it is necessary for insurance purposes but do not ignore the situation you are recording. Be useful.

Carpe Diem.

Be It Resolved

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This time of year many make resolutions for the new year. Me too, of course. My resolution to myself is to be a better me. And I have no idea what that means. Yet, the idea that I want to be a better me implies I know myself now and there are improvements that can be made for the better.

Do we ever really know ourselves? How old does one have to be before acceptance as is becomes the norm?

This past year as I passed through three quarters of a century and Cheryl did not, I began to emerge from a deep funk, a depression, the sadness of her death, the gladness of her death, half a decade of overwhelming anxiety about her care and looked toward an open road and at the new sunrise and wondered, what next?

A new person entered my life who knows me only as me, a man, single, a writer that exposes his emotions to the world, who tries to be of service to others around him, and maybe shares too much of himself. She does not seem to mind my nuances of self. Like everyone I have many of those nuances, sides, aspects. We seem to fit.

Another resolution, perhaps a better one is; stay in the moment. Being a better me is a look into the past and attempting to improve. Staying in the moment is not looking back. Nor is it planning for some future that may not come. For now fitting is enough.

These are thoughts that come to me as I think about a new relationship.

And whether or not it is clear to you, no doubt the universe is unfolding as it should. Therefore be at peace with God, whatever you conceive Him to be. And whatever your labors and aspirations, in the noisy confusion of life, keep peace in your soul. With all its sham, drudgery and broken dreams, it is still a beautiful world. Be cheerful. Strive to be happy. (Max Ehrmann)

Thanks Max for reminding me about life.

Carpe Diem.

‘tis the beginning of The Season

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The bear got his hat out yesterday. Maybe his friend the elf will show up and help celebrate soon.

On this day, however, this day before Thanksgiving Day I am thinking about our life, Cheryl’s and mine, and what a gift it was to us. Tomorrow is the day to count blessings and be thankful for what we have. For me I am also thankful for what we had.

I do not have Cheryl with me any longer but what I have instead is the knowledge that she is not suffering with Parkinson and dementia. I am thankful for that knowledge.

I do have three well educated and successful children who have built successful careers. All of the grandchildren in all of the families are healthy and happy. Some have moved into careers themselves. Some are still figuring it out for themselves but they are all self reliant. Their parents are excellent teachers. I am thankful for the family Cheryl and I made.

I do have my own health. My knees do not hurt constantly like other friends that I have. My hips do not hurt when I walk like others that I know. I was still able to hike four miles up and down the face of a wooded cliff-side in Kentucky. (My legs complained a bit afterward but the bourbon worked. I bought real hiking boots when I returned home.) In the summertime I spent many days riding 15 – 20 miles on my bike. (I am not fast but I can keep up 12 – 15 mph for long stretches. I am not in a hurry. I like to look around me while I ride.) I would like to lose a little weight but my physic will probably never be like what I was at twenty-five now that I am seventy-five. I am thankful for my health.

My sister and I have become much closer. Only she and I are left from our original family. She and I are both widowed and that is sad but it seems like we lean on each other a bit and that is helpful to both of us. I am very thankful for our relationship.

I am thankful for all the help we received from friends and family this past year as Cheryl’s health rapidly declined. I am thankful to all the kind folks at Bridgeway Pointe and Queen City Hospice that took care of Cheryl as she faded. Thank you all.

I am thankful for new friends and old friends who have helped me through the past year.

I am thankful for kindness in the world.

I am thankful that mom taught me a few basic cooking techniques when I was younger and I did not realize she was doing it.

I am thankful that I like to cook and that I like my own cooking. (See the physic comment above.)

I am thankful that things always seem to work out.

I am thankful that I am getting better at staying in the present and not experiencing anxiety for the future. This quote from Matthew pops into my head sometimes (it is true!) when I think about what comes next. [“Look at the birds of the air; they do not sow or reap or store away in barns, and yet your heavenly Father feeds them. Are you not much more valuable than they? Can any one of you by worrying add a single hour to your life? And why do you worry about clothes? See how the flowers of the field grow. They do not labor or spin.”] I thank Cheryl for teaching me this concept of staying present and Mom for pointing out self-reliance goes hand in hand with that.

Mom left me with a gift that I will always be thankful for. I wrote this paragraph sometime ago:
At the very end of her life my mother awakened for a few minutes as I was sitting with her in her room at Bridgeway Pointe which is an assisted living community where she lived out the last fifteen months of her life. When I walked into her room Mom was quietly dozing in her bed. I sat in the usual chair I sat in and waited to see if she would awaken. It was after her dinner time and she often took a nap after dinner. After a few minutes, maybe half an hour, she woke up and looked over at me. She did not have her glasses on but she said, “Paul, is that you?” I replied, “Yes it’s me.” And then she said something that I was not expecting. She said, “Thank you for all your help.” After that she dozed off again. It was the last conversation I had with my mother. She passed away a couple days later. It still makes me cry.

I am thankful that I was helpful to Mom. She acknowledged that to me. All I could say to her was, “you’re welcome.” And I sat in her darkened room as she dozed off again.

We should always be thankful for what we have and what we have had and what we may be given. When someone is helpful to you, acknowledge it and say thanks to them. (Do not whine about it if they are unhelpful – reread the Matthew quote.)

Carpe Diem.