The Importance Of Family

I recently watched the latest Pixar release, Coco. Yes, I said watch. I

am lucky enough to be able to see some of what is happening on my television and most blind people still use the same wording as sighted people. I do, however, use the term listen when it comes to books.

        “The Princess Bride is one of my favorite listens.”

If you are wondering how I watch movies and TV. To tell you the truth it’s a completely different process now, but I do still watch both.

There are many things that assist me in watching; the one that I use most and annoys everyone else is the incessant questions about what just happened or who is that?

There are other things that help, like the curved 4K H.D.R. televisions that increase the definition enough that I can see movement and the people on the screen better than the flat screens.

I say better but that still means they look more like drawings rather than ghosts and only if I am standing within a foot of it. I have a few other enhancements that help so I can enjoy being a couch potato.

I go to movies that are playing in theaters as well — I really enjoy the way other moviegoers react when they see a blind guy walk into a movie theater. I also enjoy the whispers around me being the only one watching a movie wearing sunglasses; that’s enough for me to go.

As Larry David said so eloquently, “You know who wears sunglasses indoors? Blind people and assholes.” I’m a bit of both so it works out.

Usually, I wait for movies to come out on disc and watch them at home in front of all 60 inches of my 4K curved TV at approximately 10 to 12 inches away. Ha, mom! Sitting too close didn't make me go blind, but going blind made me sit close. — (sticking tongue out and blowing raspberries.) What does that even mean? That’s a topic for another blog.

Back to the original story — A.D.D. here I am! Watching Coco made me think of all my relatives that I have forgotten, along with the ones I never had the chance to know. Both of my grandfathers died when I was young. One before I was even born which is like super young.

My grandmothers though had to endure me much longer, and although they were around for a good portion of my life, I realize, I don’t know much about them either.

There are the essential things that I’ve been told about them but that’s about it; just a little family history and done. I know my parents remember more but it's not something that’s talked about openly in my family.

My wife's family is the opposite. She knows about her grandmothers and grandfathers on both sides as well as information about great-grandparents, which is way better than I can do; I don’t even know my great-grandparents names.

I must admit that I even know her grandparents and family more than I know my own. Think about it, if you were my family would you want to be around and let people know you are related to me? Her family is not like mine in the fact that they talk about their lineages and make sure that they are not forgotten.

I had the privilege to spend time with her grandmothers and actually get to know them before they passed on. Her grandfathers, like mine, passed before I could meet or get to know them. Her grandparents are more a part of my history than my own family I'm sorry to say.

It was very apparent that the point of the movie was, ‘family is everything’ and if they are forgotten they are lost forever in the darkness of — well I don’t know what but some darkness.

After watching the movie, my daughter asked how it all worked. She thought that if there was a picture on the ‘ofrendas’ or alter and she didn’t know who it was she would take it down and they would be forgotten.

That is the whole reason for the pictures, their memories would continue; the stories and history would be passed down from generation to generation. As long as they continued to tell their family about them and so on; they would never be forgotten. Their memorial would just grow and grow as long as they kept telling the future generations about their forefathers — oh, ya, and mothers.

I have felt a bit of shame in myself knowing that I have let my family history and heritage slip through my fingers. I know that my mother, her sister and their mother have completed many generations of family history but I haven’t even cared enough to ask.

I suck I know!

I never realized how the feeling of being lost, without the knowledge of who my ancestors are and what they did, would affect me. I realize now that I am truly lost; I feel like a man without a land or in this case a history.

It is a terrible feeling, to be honest. I have an entire history of people that without, I wouldn't even exist and I have totally forgotten to remember them.

The worst feeling is that I never really cared until now. I never thought about having ancestors, or what role they played in history or eventually, my life. If one small experience would have changed, just one missing event, I wouldn’t exist.

How inconsiderate of me to just carry on with my life as if I am entitled to be here and give no credit to the people, that without whom, I wouldn’t be.

I have never believed in destiny or fate, I have always lived under the assumption that we just go through life and what happens, happens. However, if I actually think about it — fate comes from the word fatal; if you take a dead body and work backward through that person's actions, you will determine what lead him to his fate.

In essence, if we accept fate, then we accept that all actions before us created us and every action after will determine what happens to us as well as who and what we create. All of my ancestors came together at the correct time to eventually create me.

I also followed this same process to create my children who followed and created their children and so on. Here I am going through life not even acknowledging that without them I wouldn’t exist.

“Shawn”, because that’s what I call myself, “Shawn, I'm sorry, but you're an asshole.”

My eyes have been opened and I must say that I am a bit jealous of the practice of ‘Día de Muertos’ or ‘Day Of The Dead.’ They celebrate all who have passed and live in their honor.

I realize that I don’t know all there is to know about the tradition, but like the lack of knowledge I have of my own family tree, I plan on educating myself in both.

SP

Like AYFKM SMDH

        I love education and learning. I realize this blog is probably not a great example of that; "sorry ‘bout it."  I do have several years of higher education, but when I  attempt to communicate, I sound like someone who grew up with apes trying to get my message across by using fractions of sentences mixed with nonsensical grunts and utterances.

In my own defense, the people of Utah have their own language — I call it Utahnics, and I am just as guilty of this language development as anyone. Admittedly, I do try to use proper grammar and punctuation, however, when you grow up with a school motto of “Grammar be Gooder,” it’s a habit that is hard to break.

Don’t get me wrong, we have some of the goodest teachers in this state and I really don’t blame them; they do the best they can with what they have.

Utah doesn’t put the money or resources into education that they should, so education in Utah is ranked at 48^th in the nation. Yes, you read that correctly. We are ranked 48^th in the nation. When I heard that I thought to myself, “Wow, that’s like 5^th or 6^th from the bottom!”

Depending on how long that took you to figure out could reveal where you were educated. If it sounded about right, hello fellow Utahnian.

We as a society have allowed ourselves to diminish to a point of using the laziest and simplest way to speak, having no need or want to use punctuation or syntax.

Growing up I was taught to spell out words and make complete sentences. We were graded and reprimanded if the grammar, punctuation, and syntax were misused.  As I aged, some of that was lost due to my own laziness.

While attending university, I wrote papers, notes and thesis’ on many different subjects. Due to the pure volume of writing, I started to develop my own type of shorthand. It was more like my own language really.

I needed a way to keep track of my notes and not have to review 75 pages of properly written out sentences to find what I needed; so shorter, more concise methods were invented to make life easier. This continued into my later life as a comic and a therapist.

My jokes were written as a general idea and then expounded on while on stage. As a therapist, notes, mostly incoherent scribblings, are the fastest way to keep a record while listening to the clients. I have learned over time to conveniently forget how to speak and write.

To this day — and again, it shows in this blog, I struggle with grammar and punctuation. As we evolve we are constantly changing the way we dress, live, and inevitably talk, write and communicate.

When I was a teenager and would express myself to my parents by saying things like, “that’s BAD” or “Totally Wicked” and eventually just shortened to, “Bitchen!” when it was actually something really “good” or “special.” Is the equivalent of the teens of today using their own language to express their feelings to me.

I’m sure the look my parents had on their face is now mirrored by me as I hear kids talking nowadays. Pretty much like a dog that’s being asked if he wants a treat, and although he really can’t understand a thing you’re saying, he gives you that look of “I’ll just pretend I know in the hope something good comes from it.” — Did someone say “Scooby Snack?”

I am at a total loss as I overheard a conversation between two teenage girls in the mall — which in itself is a nightmarish place, where I am sure Freddy Krueger and Pennywise live, but that’s a different story. As they are talking, all I hear is this encrypted nonsensical usage of letters and words that haven’t been defined as of yet.

“I was like YOLO, and he was like LMN, and I was like OMG, STFU and he was like, right? SMDH. Like OMGYG2BK.”

Where’s my Urim and Thummim?

“WTH” happened to us? This conversation went on for over 20 min with neither girl saying a single actual word with the exception of “Like,” “Right?” and I think I heard a “Like,” and then several more “Likes,” but that may have been when I was starting to come back around from the blackout created by the strain of trying to interpret this extraterrestrial language.

I believe I've been transported to some other world or dimension where I am trying to blend in with the aliens who live on this planet and realizing the training that the government gave me was severely inadequate.

I struggle even more every time I try to use an online service, like Facebooks or the Snapchatter. I try in vain to pronounce all the words that are associated with pictures or events that get posted but alas, my old brain has now been rendered incapable of learning a new language.

What I see is a series of nonsensical words: TBT = (tbut), ICYMI = (Ikeme), PDH = (pudh), PLMK = (plimk), OOS = (ose), FCFS = (fekfus) and a whole host of others that do nothing but confuse me to the point that I wonder if there is intelligent life in this strange new land.

While we're on the subject, all the “pound signs” and “at symbols,” yes people, that is correct, “hashtag” is a made-up word for something that has been around since numbers were invented. — Mind Blown!

To add them in the middle of a sentence is just as confusing and unnecessary as putting an artichoke symbol in front of a word. These become even more aggravating when people actually talk using them.

 “That was sick, hashtag pickle, hashtag goat, hashtag encyclopedia.”

I foresee a day when high school teachers, via their electronic data pack, assign an essay to be at least 100 acronyms on the history of the English language. Actually, it would just appear on their mobile devices, since their not in a classroom any longer, as #WEOHEL. The English language, at this point, will be as foreign as Sanskrit.

I’m sorry, I meant "WTFYTA?"

In turn, the students will display their lack of interest and indifference to the assignment through the use of the emoji,

“MEH”

As we evolve into the next era of humans I wonder if they, as adults, will look at their children in the same manner, wondering what strange and unruly planet they were transported to, as their children lovingly look up at them, show them their handheld device, (because I’m sure by now, spoken language will take too long) which reads, 👩 😍 [&], which obviously means, “Mom, I love you, will you make me a PB&J?”

SP

The Price Is Right

There is a song that has been repeating over and over in my

head and unlike most things that my head plays over and over, this I am actually paying attention to.

Its only two verses but they are becoming very impressed on my thoughts.

“Seems like everybody's got a price

I wonder how they sleep at night

When the sale comes first

And the truth comes second

Just stop for a minute and smile”

“It's not about the money money money

We don't need your money money money

We just wanna make the world dance

Forget about the price tag.”

–     Jessie J

Don’t judge!

There are many different prices that we ‘apparently’ must pay in life. There’s the price we pay for health, which could include doctors or other healthcare, gym memberships, diets and other fad devices that supposedly make us healthier and live longer.

         There’s also the price we pay for not following the things listed above such as, fast food or junk food, which we pay for with an unhealthy body and possibly a shortened life.

Then there are drugs which have multiple costs. The cost that you expend in getting the drugs, the cost of the damage to your body, and we can’t forget the cost to loved ones and other people in your life.

         The price we pay for fame, the price of education or the biggest price tag of all - the cost of falling in love. As the Beyoncé would say, “If you liked it, then you should have put a ring on it.”  Then, of course, there’s the Price Is Right, which actually isn’t a price you have to pay unless you win.

My point is, everything in life comes with a price; whether it’s an actual dollar amount or a cost of physical or mental strain.

We seem to believe that something isn’t good unless we pay a lot for it — “That’s my new truck, paid 90 grand fer ‘er; she’s my baby. It does everthin but chews my food fer me.” Of course, you have to read that using your best redneck voice so it makes the most sense.

If you pay a lot for something you’re irresponsible for wasting money, “I can’t believe he spent 90 grand on that truck, I only paid 6 and mine will do everything his will.”

We believe both; the more expensive the better and at the same time the more we pay, the more foolish we are. It’s never-ending and always a losing battle. So where do we draw that line? How much is too much? 

What is it that makes one thing worth any amount and another not worth spit?

I recently had the opportunity to get my sight back. Ok, maybe I should restate that. There is a company that has developed a device that allows me to see more than I can without the device. 

Using a C.C.D. – HD camera, the device allows the user to change the contrast, zoom in and focus that image on the parts of my eye that still receive signals. “Walla!” Sight!

Ha-ha, just kidding, had ya going didn’t I? — I know its spelled “Voilà”.  Two years of high school French and I can say, Voilà” and “Il y a la porte!” which mean:

“Voilà” – Ta-Da; Presto; Behold; but also means, there it is.

“Il y a la porte!” – simply; “There’s the door!”

I remember these two sentences so vividly because they were the two most used phrases in the class for some reason. Well actually, directed towards me. My teacher would look at me, point to the door and say, “il y a la porte!” and if I took too long leaving she would tap the door frame and shout, “Voilà!”, “Voilà!!”

So, other than learning I was a terrible student in French class, the first part of that paragraph is true. The device has been on the market for a couple of years now and it has gone through testing and modifications and more testing until we have the modern product that I was privileged to try out.

It was both exhilarating and shocking to be able to see the mountains again. It wasn’t the way I remember seeing them, but I could see the snow on the peaks and the shadows in the valleys. I couldn’t actually see the trees, but I knew where they were as well as the ridgeline against the sky and I saw all of this from about 5 miles away. I normally can’t see much beyond 5 feet and here I was, looking at mountains 5 miles away with some definition.

The device takes a picture of print, zooms in and adjusts the contrast, allowing me to read print at 20/20. For me, it’s like reading a 26 pt. font at 2 feet rather than 8 pt. font at 10 feet.

All in all, I can ‘see’ the advantages to having such a device. Sightseeing would once again be something I could actually do and not just say I’m doing. It plugs directly into a television or computer so the image on the screen is projected right into my eyes.

Fishing would be an easier experience. I wouldn’t trip over rocks and bushes, I would be able to tie flies on my line and see where I’m casting. To actually witness the fish take the fly off the water would be amazing.

Working on small projects like tightening screws and bolts, changing the oil in my truck, (Yes the $6,000 one), or doing Paracord and other crafts I really enjoy would be easier and I wouldn’t get as frustrated.

For the first time ever, I would be able to see the faces of my grandchildren fully, not just blurry light and dark images.

“What is the price of that?” “What is that worth?”

I’m having an existential dilemma over this issue. I know, I know! You’re saying, 

“Do it, no matter the cost!” 

“It’s worth it!”  

“What are you waiting for!?” 

Let me explain.

Let’s go back to the trucks; do I really need to spend $90,000 on a vehicle when my $6,000 vehicle is doing just fine? I like my $6,000 truck; it takes me where I need to go and I don’t have to worry about scratching or wrecking it, losing the value of the new truck. In contrast, I wouldn't have the worry about the new truck breaking down. 

In other words, I have come to terms with my loss of vision; I am happy and content. My “$6,000” eyesight works to the extent of what I need right now. However, the “$90,000” eyes would sure be comfortable and make life easier in some ways. It would also be, in my eyes, a luxury I thought I would never get.

Or am I looking at it from a skewed perspective? Rather than comparing two trucks, maybe I own a car; it gets me around, and for the most part what I need. However, I need to haul some lumber and the car won’t do. Then the upgrade to the truck would be beneficial.

But would I need the $90,000 upgrade or would the $6,000 due? So, back to my original question, “what is the price of life?” Or in my case — sight? 

If a loved one is in the hospital and there is a procedure that will save his or her life we all, I believe, would do it at any cost; but this, the “upgrade”, is just an enhancement or an elective type of procedure.

When does the benefit outweigh the cost? At what point does too much mean too much and how do we differentiate between the two?

SP

Juggling Lemonade

           I've heard when life gives you lemons you make

lemonade. I've also heard, that unless life gives you sugar and water, it’s going to be pretty terrible lemonade.    

We have all felt at some point in life that God, the universe, the notorious spaghetti monster or whatever you believe, is dealing out more than we can handle.

When I lost my vision I felt as lost as any blind man could. It was way more intimidating and anxiety-ridden than I could have ever imagined. There was a lot that I contemplated when it first happened.

"Why Me?"

"What was I being punished for?"

"Why do bad things happen to good people?"

Well, honestly, that wasn’t what I thought; that came mostly from the people who didn’t know me very well. I have often wondered, what constitutes a bad thing exactly? 
         We all seem to believe that bad things happen to us throughout our lives. I have heard everything from, “when will I catch a break!” to, “go ahead pile one more thing on!”  And who hasn’t heard, “I forgot to wear my colander!” Negativity seems to be the biggest and in most cases, the most controlling influence in our lives.

Why is that?

In most cases, We must blame ourselves for our negativity. There are decisions that I make in my life that afterward, I think to myself — “Shawn,” Because that’s what I call myself, “Shawn, what were you thinking?”

These are not always decisions that are dangerous or frightening, although, I have had my fair share of those as well.  Most times they’re just things I really didn’t think through.

“Sometimes the bad things that happen in our lives put us directly on the path to the best things that will ever happen to us.”     

     -Nicole Reed

It’s all a matter of perspective.

I was given the opportunity to perform my hypnosis show at the school for the blind. They were having a fundraiser to send several blind students on a special trip and wanted me as the main entertainment. I thought this was an awesome opportunity to give back to the blind community and show these young people that there is nothing you can’t accomplish if you put in the work and dedication.

I have performed for 20 years and for many fundraisers; I would promote it as always and my gracious fans and followers would come through and support as they always have. I was correct and thousands of dollars were raised.

I was honored and grateful to be asked to be part of this amazing event and until the night of the show, I really didn’t give it much more thought than that.

You would think being blind, I would have been a little more prepared for what was to come. You would think I would have, at a minimum, thought to myself, “Shawn,” because that’s what I call myself, “Shawn, you should prepare a show for blind people.”

I’m the guy with a vision loss and my show is completely designed for people with vision. Throughout the years I really never gave this whole concept much thought. You would think after losing my vision and the numerous times I hit my head on things it would have dawned on me.

Nope! Just a bunch of useless bumps.

I was so proud of myself for being able to adapt my show for my vision loss and still perform for the sighted that I totally ‘lost sight’ of others with vision loss. (I intend all my puns.)

As I was sitting backstage prior to the show, I suddenly realized that the people who were here to support this event were friends and family of the kids themselves.

Yes, my followers came through and donated to the event but only a few showed up for the show itself. I don’t blame them for this, we will all gladly help out the needy but it’s the friends and family that want to see their kids in a hilarious show of hypnotic escapades; especially when they are disabled in some way.

I am not trying to say that their need is more important — but it is.

Every parent wants to show their child that they are just as capable and able to accomplish anything they set their minds to; but I think that desire is a bit more prevalent in parents of a disabled child. I am just minutes from show time and I, for the first time, realize that my volunteers were the blind students themselves.

“Here are your lemons; good luck dumb ass!” I felt like I was up the proverbial creek of excrement without the proper means of propulsion.

 Not only had I never performed for the blind, I had committed an even bigger blind person sin. I hadn’t even thought about them being part of the show, prior to this very moment.

To add salt to an open wound I have had blind people attend my shows and — pour more salt, talk to me after and ask me to explain certain bits so they could understand why it was funny. Still, I didn’t think about how visual my show is.

"What’s the IQ of a houseplant?" 

Even with my deficient IQ, I have determined that one of the biggest factors in this failure is that I was sighted until 4 years ago. I can still ‘see’ in my mind how the show plays out and what makes it funny.

It didn’t have to be explained because I had seen it so many times. But I had totally ‘lost sight’ — figuratively and literally, of how I feel, when I am taken to one of my granddaughter's dance recitals or gymnastics tournaments and every move has to be explained and relayed to me.

Not only that but how would I do, performing those dances or gymnastic movements with just verbal instruction and not being able to ‘see’ the demonstrations?

“Do a back plié with a step kick twist and end with a ta-da; make sure you smile and show those spirit fingers.” "Ready, 1-2-3 wide awake, annnnnddd, go!”

So, here I am sitting backstage holding the lemons that were just handed to me with no water or sugar to make my lemonade in a desert of very thirsty people.

How could I allow myself to get into this situation? I have committed the past 4 years learning how to navigate this world as a blind person and I overlook one of the most important things in my life.

“What the shit Shawn?”

"Lemons to lemonade — Lemons to lemonade," I keep repeating in my mind hoping that whatever guardian angel I still had wasn’t out drinking again leaving me to my own plant-based intellect.

In the end, I realized that just because life gives you lemons, lemonade isn’t your only choice. There are many uses for lemons and some of them are way more fun, and after all, I was hired to entertain.

When life hands you lemons — Juggle!

The solution isn’t always easy and at times you have to realize, if you see yourself in a bad or difficult situation, it only takes some creative processing to change it.

Thank all the sober comedy gods, the show was a huge success and the participants were able to understand and express themselves in a way that I never believed possible. I took those lemons that were marked for lemonade and used them in a way that I had never thought of before, and it worked.

Inside each one of those lemons wasn’t lemonade; it was a bottle of Champaign waiting to be uncorked and the celebration to start.

I would like to hope, after this experience, my IQ has risen slightly above plant life. I have no idea where the inspiration came from, maybe one of the bumps on my head finally opened my eyes.

The realization that there is always more than one option to make every bad situation better, has forever changed my idea of how I should travel down the path of life.

SP

Friendships are Fickle

      For most of my life, I have believed that I didn’t have many friends. I look back on my childhood and teenage years and recall the times I ‘remember’ thinking I was alone and friendless.

      Then, like most of the things in my brain, something happens to totally unravel that conclusion. I can’t put my finger on it, but it seems the older I get and the more I reminisce about my ever so fading past, I realize that I have always had friends that laughed with me, cried with me and at times ran from the cops and inevitably,  bailed me out.

      I wonder if the feeling of not having friends as adults is because, as children, we are equipped to realize what true friendship is and that equipment like all things eventually fails.

      As I watch my grandchildren, who are all still very young, I observe that friendship is whoever will play with them and keep them occupied. There isn’t a preconceived notion or pretense about what that friendship is or why it exists; everyone is their friend.

      This doesn't always fall in the form of people outside their own family. In part, this revelation came from my 5-year-old granddaughter who refers to everyone she meets with, “This is my friend.” —This introduction also includes me.

      I cannot recall the number of times I have been told that I am her friend. I’m still grandpa or actually “PaPa” which is what she calls me when she wants something; but in the terms of relationship, I’m just as equal as her neighbor. “That’s my friend.”

“I love you, PaPa.”

“Why do you love me?”

“You’re my friend.”

      If you think about it, this friendship value is remarkable. Everyone that she believes is her friend, from me to the door greeter at the store; we are all just as important to her, just because we interact.

      This type of friendship value somehow disappears as we grow older. At some point, we decide that not everyone we meet can be our friends; we grow cynical and apprehensive to protect ourselves from the world. 

      I envy her and the value of friendship that she has. She can be in an all-out war with one of her friends and still call her a friend. Of course, that all-out battle usually consists of who got the Hatchimal or Flip-A-Zoo first.

      If you don’t know what these are, consider yourself out of the child “These are life!” loop.

      In school, it’s the people that we 'hang' with in the hallways and the cafeteria and some of these may carry over to life after school. Most of the friends that I had in school, I only spoke to or saw while at school. Most days we went our own ways as soon as the final bell rang.

      There were exceptions; some days we would end up doing something after school — usually getting into some kind of trouble — but those friends were few. Mostly because I was usually the instigator of the trouble and they got tired of running from the cops, or farmers, or explaining why we were in that train car.

      Friendships are forever changing.  After school life, I found myself in a friendship with 3 other young men. We worked together, had great times skiing, boating and hunting together, and we cherished that time.

     Somehow, this friendship was unlike the high school friends. We had all these amazing plans of how we were going to grow old together, live by each other and raise our families together; The perfect BFF’s.

      However, just like high school friendships, at some point, it all came to an end. I decided to return to school to better myself; get a degree and change the situation I was in. We swore that our friendship could stand the depths of time and space but like all my other friendships they soon faded into the hustle and bustle of everyday life.

      We talked now and then, made small efforts to stay in touch but the bonds that once were diminished over time and years. It has been many years now without any contact at all.

      We all seem to require friendships to make our life whole and I have often contemplated that exact notion. Why is that need to have that bond and companionship so important?

      Do we not have enough in our lives to satisfy us and keep us happy? Or do we need that constant reassurance that we are good? (Well — I try.) Why do we need others to justify our own existence and value?

      Throughout the year's friends have come and gone. Some I thought would be forever, some I knew was a passing friendship that as long as we associated daily, things would be good. However, once that association broke so did the friendship. 

      I believe we all think that we lack friends because of the fleeting nature of friendship that requires contact. When we get wrapped up in life’s evolving situations, friends seem to be the first to be left by the wayside and eventually let go.

      As I reflect on the few relationships I have, with whom I call my best friends, I realized that as soon as life changed for one or the other of us, it also changed the friendship, but for some reason, the friendship remained.

      So why these individual friends? 

      Why did this bond last even through moves to other states, hardships that created very stressful situations, and even strong disagreements?

      Maybe it’s because, on those rare occasions, we revert back to that 5-year-old mentality of what a friend should be. It’s the person that is there through thick and thin; who will still love you even if you do have their favorite Hatchimal.

      5-year-olds don’t have the ability to distinguish if they are going through a hard time — dropping a popsicle on the ground is terms for a meltdown. They just forget and move on as soon as there is something new to interest them.

      My best friends and I have that same ability. They put up with me and my meltdowns — Damn Popsicles, and try to soothe them by distracting me — usually, anything shiny will do, and vice versa.

We complement each other in ways that only true friends can. It took me 50 years to figure it out but I think I have a theory.

      Now, I'm not a doctor — oh wait, yes I am, “so, trust me I’m a doctor.” (I’ve always wanted to say that.) This is my thought on the matter of friends.

      Laughter!

      That’s it… Think about the friends that are closest to you and what do you feel, hear, and see? It's not the bad times or the meltdowns, it's that love and laughter that you share when you are together, apart, reminiscing or missing their company.

      “I think one of my favorite feelings is laughing with someone and realizing how much you enjoy them and their existence.”

     You notice I did not say their friendship, their loyalty or even their love but just their pure existence. It is enough that they are alive and part of your life.

      Friends will always come and go. You will talk and enjoy each other’s company. You may even have a bond, but for me, the true test of friendship is the fact that I am glad they exist.

      Whether we talk, interact or even think about the other is of little importance when you finally find the ones that make you happy just by their presence on this earth and in your heart.

      Thank you my cherished friends; you know who you are. I hope you know why you are my dearest and closest friends. You will always be in my heart and in my life.

      I Love you!

SP