“Life is what happens to you while you are busy making other plans”
Here we are again, another “To Much to Do” day. So guess what, you got it, another dip into the past.
May 31, 2001
I thought you might enjoy this e-mail I got from my friend Judy from Chicago yesterday.
I had a good laugh today. I forwarded your info on your cruise to my husband with a note saying "this sounds like a great cruise and Ray said he got a good price". A few minutes later my computer dings and I open an e-mail from my husband which says "Who’s Ray?"
May 31, 2002
Sometimes, we wonder why friends keep forwarding stories to us without writing a word, maybe this could explain:
When you are very busy, but still want to keep in touch, guess what you do – you forward stories.
When you have nothing to say, but still want to keep contact, you forward stories.
When you have something to say, but don’t know what, and don’t know how, you forward stories.
To let you know that: you are still remembered, you are still important, you are still loved, you are still cared for, you are still wanted, guess what you get? A forwarded story from me.
So my friends and family, next time if you get a story, don’t think that I have sent you just a story, but that I have thought of you today.
May 31, 2004
It is our annual Memorial Day holiday (it was on this day three years ago) here in the United States, it is the time for remembrance of friends, family, and the heroes of the past that are no longer with us. It is the time when many will reflect on the world as it was, and the world as it is today a time when there is tragedy everywhere in the world today. Inhumanity is rampant, genocide is again on the rise in Africa, and whole continents are being threatened by both Aids and famine. What bothers me is how easy it is for us to ignore what as going on as we focus on ourselves. We even find that we can make ourselves feel better by calling those that care, bleeding hearts as if that was a derogatory term. It has been those who cared for the plight of others, the so called bleeding hearts, that are the foundation of the great religions. Would Christ be viewed as a bleeding heart if he walked the earth today? You bet he would.
Only time will tell if we can survive in a world where self-interest is primary and helping to build a better society is secondary. I would hope that in the months and years ahead that we will quit spending so much time justifying our behavior and more time caring for others.
Was this true or what?
SOMEDAY, when the kids are grown, life will be different.
The memo pad on my refrigerator door will read, “Afternoon at hairdresser," or, "Browse through art gallery," or, "Start golf lessons," instead of, "Pediatrician at 2:00," or, "Cub Pack Meeting."
SOMEDAY, when the kids are grown, the house will be free of graffiti. There will be no crayoned smiley faces on the walls, no names scrawled in furniture dust, no pictures fingered on steamy windows, and no initials etched in bars of soap.
SOMEDAY, when the kids are grown, I’ll get through a whole chapter of an engrossing book without being interrupted to sew a nose on a teddy bear, stop a toddler from eating the dog food, or rescue the cat from the toy box.
SOMEDAY, when the kids are grown, I won’t find brown apple cores under the beds, empty spindles on the toilet paper hanger, or fuzzy caterpillars in denim jeans. And I will be able to find a pencil in the desk drawer, a slice of leftover pie in the refrigerator, and the comics still in the centre of the newspaper.
SOMEDAY, when the kids are grown, I’ll breeze right past the gumball machine in the supermarket without having to fumble for pennies; I’ll stroll freely down each aisle without fear of inadvertently passing the candy or toy sections; and I’ll choose cereal without considering what noise it makes, what prize it contains, or what color it comes in.
SOMEDAY, when the kids are grown, I’ll prepare Quiche Loraine, or Scallops Amandine, or just plain liver and onions, and no one will say, "Yuk! I wish we were having hot dogs!" or, "Jimmy’s lucky, his mom lets him eat chocolate bars for dinner." And we’ll eat by candle light, with no one trying to roast their peas and carrots over the flame to "make them taste better," or arguing about who gets to blow out the candle when we’re done.
SOMEDAY, when the kids are grown, I’ll get ready for my bath without first having to remove a fleet of boats, two rubber alligators, and a soggy tennis ball from the tub. I’ll luxuriate in hot, steamy water and billows of bubbles for a whole hour, and no fists will pound on the door, no small voices will yell, "Hurry up, Mommy! I gotta go!"
YES when the kids are grown, life will be different. They’ll leave our nest, and the house will be Quiet…. and calm…. and empty…. and lonely…. And I won’t like that at all! And then I’ll spend my time, not looking forward to SOMEDAY, but looking back at YESTERDAY.
I figure you have the same chance of winning the lottery whether you play or not.
A Jewish Neurotic is a person who worries about things that didn’t happen in the past instead of worrying about something that won’t happen in the future, like normal people.
A worried father confronted his daughter one night. "I don’t like that new boyfriend, he’s rough and common and bloody stupid with it."
"Oh no, Daddy," the daughter replied, "Fred’s ever so clever, we’ve only been going out nine weeks and he’s cured me of that illness I used to get once a month."
A psychologist is a man who watches everyone else when a beautiful girl enters the room.
"I have good news and bad news," the defense attorney told his client. "First the bad news. The blood test came back, and your DNA is an exact match with that found at the crime scene."
"Oh, no!" cried the client. "What’s the good news?"
"Your cholesterol is only 180."
Doug and Bill were at the racetrack.
Doug says, "You know, if you win $600 on a race, the track tells the government."
Bill says, "Well it could be worse."
Doug replies, "What could be worse than telling the government you won $600."
Bill sighs, "Telling your wife."
If you want to keep your memories, first you have to live them.
Stay well, do good work, and have fun.
Indianapolis, Indiana, USA
Management is not responsible for duplicates from previous dailies.
The editor is somewhat senile.