Knowing that I'm a cool cat.

More and more, I'm learning to keep my cool. To not get upset. Visibly. Or for that matter, even underneath. Oh, I'm no Barack Obama, the master of cool. But I do a pretty good job of it. And maybe where I learned the most was in the 13 years I was a caregiver to my dear Jeanne. Through the ordeal of Alzheimer's. I started out as anything but cool. I became easily rattled. Shaken by it all. But year by year by year, I became better at it. More accepting of the goings-on. In the last 3 years, it's quite possible I didn't lose my cool even once. Yes, not until the day Jeanne died. Then I lost it. But since then, I've retrieved my cool. Oh, I may still lose it on rare occasion. But I quickly recover. And some day I hope to be the equal of Obama. Of course, Obama sets a high standard. Most of us won't even come close to that kind of cool. But I have the potential. And the confidence. No sense in letting adversity or the nastiness of others get to me. It's a nice feeling to have a thick, protective skin. Knowing that I'm a cool cat. --Jim Broede