When I was an active care-giver. I tried not to be preoccupied. With
care-giving. And with dementia. I mused about totally unrelated stuff. And went
for long walks. For fresh air. And communion with Mother Nature. I reminded
myself. To plug variety and balance into my life. To take a break. To find reason to laugh. To
not take life so seriously. It was too easy. To lament. To feel sorry for one’s
self. Instead, I mused. About being blessed. And in love. Not only with dear
Jeanne. But with life. To tell the truth. I’m having a rollicking good time.
And I don’t feel the least bit guilty. About
being an optimist. In a world full of grumpy old pessimists. --Jim Broede
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