Purrrrrfect Prescription

"Creation is a drug I can't do without." Cecil B.DeMille

I never thought I would be on such good speaking terms with a pharmacist. Since my heart attack I am taking things with names I can't even pronounce. But the real prescription that I am following religiously is really keeping my ticker ticking:

1. Every day tell wife how much I love her.
2. Let my two Giant Malamutes take me for a walk every day.
3. Pet white cat once a day and listen to her purrrrrrrr.
4. Every third day try to make friends with Black Cat who growls like a dog at me.
5. Try to not watch much bad television especially news programs.
6. Live by my "inner clock" and worry less about deadlines--pun intended.
7.Remember to thank God for every day that I am on this side of the green summer grass.

Question: Do you need your "Life Prescription" refilled?

Time

Remember when you had so much time on your hands you could "kill" it and not feel a bit guilty about the crime? Remember when you had "all the time in the world"? Do you recall when "time was on your side?" Time was so much in abundance that you could waste time, spend time, lose time,and even make time, time and time again.

Since my heart attack, when time almost caught up with me and killed me I feel more relaxed about time in some ways than I ever have before. And in other ways (none of them morbid) I feel that time is "running" out.

I told a friend the other day that if the next 10 years go by as fast as the last 20 then they will only feel like 5. Today I feel that I want to make the most of the time I have left no matter how long or short that is and the way to this is by only doing what I really love and being with those I love more of the time than not.

Question: Is time a'wastin'?

The Pool of Not-Knowing

Some mornings, like this one for instance, even though I see the bright sun already at work warming the South, I take a dive anyway into the sometimes dark pool of not knowing. As I swim or simply tread water I wonder where are the classmates, old loves and friends that vowed we'd always stay in touch. I wonder if they are doing well or poorly, alive, dead, married, divorced, with or without children.

I do not know where Robin is and if she ever returned to Jamaica after our journey there together a million years ago. I do not know where Marty, my assistant manager and young sweetheart is and what she loves doing today. I do not know where all those students that I taught over the last 30 years finally landed. Speaking of landing, I wonder if Laurel in The Flying Boy (that is not her real name) ever forgave me for flying I did at her expense.

The pool of not knowing is deep, sometimes cold, and as murky as my old memory. Was it Marty who went to Jamaica and Robin who was my assistant manager? Okay. My memory isn't quite that bad.

This little blurb is a shout out to anyone who has dove into this same pool and wondered, "Where did old John Lee go after leaving Florence, Tuscaloosa, Austin and other locals?"

Question: When you dive into the pool who do you wonder about?