SPORTS INJURY

I made the decision the minute it happened. After all, I’ve spewed enough positive quotes in the Baker Breeze for the last 15 years to know that I either had to walk the talk or be a hypocrite. Now, within minutes, I’d have to choose to believe all of it or go the poor me route. The truth is, I’m happy to say, it didn’t really cross my mind to feel sorry for myself because we don’t go out very far anyway. You see, that sunny day a few weeks ago at Laguna Beach, the smaller waves were breaking right on the shore…impossible to ride in. We didn’t feel like driving anywhere else that day. Sooo, I stepped over the smaller Laguna waves breaking on shore and thought I’d just float out beyond them on my board. So here comes a really big one, really fast and hard. What to do. In an instant I thought I’d float over it since I didn’t know how to go under it with my boogie board. Too late I realized it would break right on top of me so, not knowing what else to do, I turned to ride this monster in. Well, the wave broke right on my head slamming me to the ocean floor as I tumbled over and over. I shot my left arm to protect my head from hitting the bottom and was eventually tossed onto the shore dazed and glad to be in one piece. Talk about cleaning up the ocean floor! But with my face? I had sand in my mouth, ears, hair and everywhere! My hand began to swell, but so what? I laughed thinking it was a little sprain and, at least, I didn’t get it mopping the kitchen floor, working in the garage, or in a car accident. I iced it up, but, oh boy, by morning it was almost double size, very bruised and hurting.
Off to urgent care Wally and I went followed by x-rays and the orthopedic doc. Okay so the left hand is broken and now in a cast. But guess what?
This makes me a sports jock! A dude! I hope the grandchildren are impressed that Grandma Annie didn’t slip getting up out of a rocking chair. And my beautiful purple bandage matched perfectly the outfit I wore to a wedding the next week. A little Tylenol does the trick and I’m functioning pretty much up to normal speed. Wally helps me put up my open house signs and I’m typing the B Breeze with one hand, but the cast will be off in another week or two. It’s healing nicely so maybe it’s good for me to do things a little slower.

Being an observer of human nature, it’s been fun to observe people’s reaction when they see this cast. Personality types figure into the responses. For example, type A co-worker says, “Oh, no! I hope it doesn’t affect your work!” Kindly son Rob, who taught us to boogie board, looks at it with sad eyes as if it’s somehow, his fault. “Oh, no!” he says, “I’m so sorry!” Then, I got a dressing down from him on the different kinds of waves and how to avoid “slammers”. And Wally? I think he was a little ticked at me for going in that day when the waves were pretty big further out. But, in true devoted husband style, he’s been helpful. Other reactions include a wedding guest, “What’s boogie boarding?” Another dainty lady said, “Yeow, yuck, you mean you actually get into that dirty water?” Another said, “Okay, who did you slug?” One friend thought I should make a better story out of it including a shark, etc.

There’s been much joking between Wally and I speculating on who to sue since we live in such a litigious state. You see, we’re great believers in taking responsibility for our own actions, don’t much believe in the entitlement mentality and sure don’t believe in tuning into the victim mentality. So, who should I sue? I know! The wave! Well, there’s no deep pocket there. Hmm. Okay, shall I sue Mother Nature? How about suing God? Isn’t it His ocean?

Nah. None of that works for me because I’ve learned so much from this whole experience. For example, the greatest response to this cast was from Carol who does my hair. Oh, yes! Great benefit number one! I can’t reach up to do my hair so I get to trot into Carol’s for awhile for her to do it. Anyway, she took one look at me, laughed, and said, “The second half of life really is better, isn’t it?” Right on! You see, even three years ago you wouldn’t catch me in that cold water, much less riding waves, but enter wet suits and grandkids who wanted to go, and well, we’re kids again! And since 60 is the new 40, and 50 is the new 30, count me in! Let’s prove the theory!

Most of all, I’ve learned we’re all pretty vulnerable and to treasure what I have. See, even though my left hand is in a cast, I have another one! My right hand! I’ve got lots of other stuff too that came through…2 ears, 2 legs, 2 eyes, a brain…and they all work! Indeed, my cup is half full! Oh, I’ll be a little more careful next time, but, hey, when you’re a dude, a jock, life is much more exciting than joining the rocking chair crowd, so, I say to life…bring it on! Uh, but a little more carefully.

(Words 937)

QUOTES
“Make the least of all that goes and the most of all that comes.” Ruth Bell Graham

“Housework can’t kill you, but why take a chance?” Phyllis Diller

“Why not go out on a limb? Isn’t that where the fruit is?” Vin Scully

“Be not angry that you cannot make others as you wish them to be since you cannot make yourself as you wish to be”. Thomas Kempis

”A closed mouth gathers no feet.” (Oliver’s Law)

IT IS MORE BLESSED TO GIVE

“Feliz Navidad,!” we chanted over and over in our cheeriest voices as we carried the colorful Christmas packages into their tiny, crowded apartment. Since I couldn’t speak Spanish, daughter Stacey had come with me delighting that her fluency in Spanish could help out. The children’s caretakers knew when we would be by. As the door opened we were overwhelmed by 9 small children, the offspring of parents in prison, who had sent in their child’s name for 2 gifts each to be donated by an organization called, Angel Tree. The kids danced around us and helped carry the packages from the car. I was almost ashamed of my late model car and a little frightened driving into the shabby neighborhoods even in broad daylight. But the kids shining eyes and giggles swept away any doubts we had about coming. Inside the one bedroom apartment, smaller than my living room, we saw a kitchen smaller than my pantry, no gifts anywhere and colorful attempts to decorate, even without a tree. We remarked, “Oh, how pretty!” about the decorations. Hidden behind my mask of sunglasses and frozen smile, I choked up, grateful for Stacey’s upbeat playful attitude with the kids swarming around us. Quickly, we gave each child one wrapped requested toy and one article of clothing. The size and details had all been taken care of by Angel Tree. With hugs and giggles we said goodbye to get on with our 9 other deliveries that day. We were only one car of many out delivering gifts to over 550 kids. That’s over 1100 gifts shopped for, labeled, wrapped with love, separated into zip codes, called and delivered. But I get ahead of myself.

We got back in the car trailed by other children in the neighborhood who wondered what was going on. Safe in the driver’s seat as we drove away, I dropped my cheery mask and simply wept. These innocent kids, through no fault of their own, what chance did they have in life, how will they make it, who will be their role models, do they get enough to eat, are they warm enough at night, where will they end up? And how do their “caretakers” deal with the day to day? They are grandmothers, 70, 80 years old, sisters, aunts, whoever, who have taken in these kids. Some of these prisoners will never see the light of day, their crimes being so severe. The greeting taped to the gift was from the prisoner. “Mommy (or Daddy) loves you and misses you.” What were they thinking? Did they not know what would happen if they got caught and went to jail? They were in prisons all over the country and the gift request had been sent through Prison Ministry to Angel Tree to our area. To think that a little child would be so needy that his parents need help to buy him a toy or a pair of pajamas was simply more than I could bear. And all the deliveries that Stacey and I did were right here in fluent Huntington Beach within a mile or two of our home. Of course, our group also delivered to many surrounding areas too. And, in fairness, they weren’t all Spanish families. We took those names because Stacey is fluent in the language. My heart ached as I thought of the emails and phone calls we had exchanged in our family to get just the right gift for our own kids and grandkids..…who already have rooms full of toys and closets full of stylish clothes.
Angel Tree puts a limit of $20 per gift, making it easily affordable for any of us to help out. Any organization can participate in helping Angel Tree. In our area a real angel named Penny Hoffman and her kindly husband Bill, our friends, have given their entire month of December for over 10 years to give this project wings through the umbrella of the First Christian Church at Main and Adams. Wally and I are only one of dozens of volunteer who have already donated 100’s of hours just gathering the information and calling caretakers. On a designated Sunday Angel Tree first names, ages and sizes will be laid out at the church so volunteers can pick up a name, shop, wrap, and return it to the church where more volunteers will separate the gifts into family packages, bags, and maps to the area. And then delivery volunteers will show up that blessed morning to deliver.

As usual, the joke is on us. We helped last year thinking it was the right thing to do.
We had forgotten that blessing others would in turn bless us. It truly was the highlight of our entire season because it put everything in perspective. I shall never forget the 3 year old girl rushing to our car for fear there would be no gift for her after 8 older brothers and sisters carry in gifts for themselves. Tears streamed down her tired little face as she said, “Where’s mine? What about me?” As Stacey quickly handed her her 2 packages she burst into instant giggles and smiles. We realized a simple little gift can give a child a little hope in her difficult world. We can hardly wait to help deliver this year and get the double blessing. One for the kids and one for us.

In fairness, there are other spectacular opportunities to be blessed, er, I mean, to give. The Toys for Tots” program where you can drop off a gift at any fire
Station, goes to kids all over the county and, of course, is greatly helped by our beloved Marines. Call 714-825-3159 for more information.

“Feliz Navidad!” I want to wish you a Merry Christmas, Happy Hanukah, whatever, from the bottom of my heart! And may our greatest gift be the realization that it is more blessed to give than to receive.

EVERYBODY HAS A SWEETHEART SOMEWHERE

EVERYBODY HAS A SWEETHEART SOMEWHERE

I used to think that the only sweetheart that could be in your life on Valentine’s Day was a romantic one of the opposite sex. Sometimes on that day, I’ve had a sweetheart and sometimes felt a little sorry for myself when I didn’t.

And then, today, I looked up the real meaning of the word sweetheart. Surprisingly, it simply means, “loved one”. My eyes filled with tears as I realized how much I’ve taken for granted the one loved one who has been there for me my whole life. An innocent little girl who was willing to lay down her life to stand by me unconditionally all our lives without any hesitation. She is my sister Gloria.

You see, we were latch key kids long before the term was invented. Our divorced working mother left 8-year-old Gloria in full charge of 6 year old me when we lived in Memphis in an unsafe area of town. Things had better be taken care of by the time Mother got home from work or we were “invited” to go outside and pick the switches with which we were spanked.

Amazingly, Gloria had common sense way beyond her years at that tender age. She had to grow up fast, set aside her own childhood, and protect me with little regard to her own safety. I was the skinny, small, pale blond little sister with thick glasses—that every neighborhood bully dreams of. Well, one day the local bully knocked me flying off my favorite swing as I soared to the top. He had to have it. Gloria overcame any fears she might have. She simply dug the gravel out of my mouth and face, cleaned me up, dried my tears, knocked on the door of the bully, and right in front of his mother, slugged him right in the face. I don’t recall that he was ever a problem again.

Twice she saved my life. Home alone one night, a burglar was coming through the window, when she grabbed me and flew down the street to a neighbor’s house. I was too paralyzed with fear to know what to do. The scariest time, though was when a strange man came to the door during school when we were home sick and said he was sent by the school to “check on us”. He mentioned the name of the local school. It wasn’t the one we attended. Sensing something was wrong, Gloria grabbed me, pushed me past him and fled down the street to a neighbor’s house. He was later arrested for multiple charges all over town.

Later, living with our grandparents, the guys came to the door everyday begging her to come play baseball. They knew what we continue to know today. If you have Gloria on your team, you win. She was the consummate tomboy, athletic and tan, who slugged the ball over the fence most of the time. She represented all that I wanted to be. Most of the bad sunburns I got in my teens were an effort to try to look like her; be her. Finally, I’ve realized it’s okay just to be me.

We were separated for many years. She was left in Memphis with grandparents and Mother. I was blessed to live with the amazing, compassionate Thomas family of Olean, New York. They transformed my life. And some years were spent with my loving Dad and his family. Well, Gloria and I grew up. We were reunited when I moved to California as an adult where she lives too. She has 6 grown kids and 12 grandkids. Almost died several times from miscarriages and raised her first 4 kids almost single-handedly. How she managed those years is now family legend. She achieved an outstanding career as head of travel at JPL. Through the years we’ve had our disagreements and yet today we love each other more than ever.

Now we face the shock of learning she has lung cancer. All of us are in different stages of the process together. After 2 weeks of tears, prayers and lots of talking, we’ve all stabilized and watched in amazement as she carries on her chemo and radiation with strong faith, peace of mind and even humor that is beyond our understanding. She tells us she’s ready for whatever God has. Ready to go if need be. We’ve said no. I need my big sister another 25-30 years. And, true to form, she’s more concerned about us than herself. The prognosis looks good. And we will win because when you’re lucky enough to be on Gloria’s team, well, you win. She’s a homerun hitter. With her kind of attitude success is a given. Here’s a woman who’s had very little help in this life. Self taught, very clear on right and wrong, loving and not afraid to step up to the plate. A winner. She’s one heck of a loved one to call the ultimate Valentine. She’s a real sweetheart. And lucky am I to call her my sister. Happy Valentine’s Day, Gloria.EVERYBODY HAS A SWEETHEART SOMEWHERE

I used to think that the only sweetheart that could be in your life on Valentine’s Day was a romantic one of the opposite sex. Sometimes on that day, I’ve had a sweetheart and sometimes felt a little sorry for myself when I didn’t.

And then, today, I looked up the real meaning of the word sweetheart. Surprisingly, it simply means, “loved one”. My eyes filled with tears as I realized how much I’ve taken for granted the one loved one who has been there for me my whole life. An innocent little girl who was willing to lay down her life to stand by me unconditionally all our lives without any hesitation. She is my sister Gloria.

You see, we were latch key kids long before the term was invented. Our divorced working mother left 8-year-old Gloria in full charge of 6 year old me when we lived in Memphis in an unsafe area of town. Things had better be taken care of by the time Mother got home from work or we were “invited” to go outside and pick the switches with which we were spanked.

Amazingly, Gloria had common sense way beyond her years at that tender age. She had to grow up fast, set aside her own childhood, and protect me with little regard to her own safety. I was the skinny, small, pale blond little sister with thick glasses—that every neighborhood bully dreams of. Well, one day the local bully knocked me flying off my favorite swing as I soared to the top. He had to have it. Gloria overcame any fears she might have. She simply dug the gravel out of my mouth and face, cleaned me up, dried my tears, knocked on the door of the bully, and right in front of his mother, slugged him right in the face. I don’t recall that he was ever a problem again.

Twice she saved my life. Home alone one night, a burglar was coming through the window, when she grabbed me and flew down the street to a neighbor’s house. I was too paralyzed with fear to know what to do. The scariest time, though was when a strange man came to the door during school when we were home sick and said he was sent by the school to “check on us”. He mentioned the name of the local school. It wasn’t the one we attended. Sensing something was wrong, Gloria grabbed me, pushed me past him and fled down the street to a neighbor’s house. He was later arrested for multiple charges all over town.

Later, living with our grandparents, the guys came to the door everyday begging her to come play baseball. They knew what we continue to know today. If you have Gloria on your team, you win. She was the consummate tomboy, athletic and tan, who slugged the ball over the fence most of the time. She represented all that I wanted to be. Most of the bad sunburns I got in my teens were an effort to try to look like her; be her. Finally, I’ve realized it’s okay just to be me.

We were separated for many years. She was left in Memphis with grandparents and Mother. I was blessed to live with the amazing, compassionate Thomas family of Olean, New York. They transformed my life. And some years were spent with my loving Dad and his family. Well, Gloria and I grew up. We were reunited when I moved to California as an adult where she lives too. She has 6 grown kids and 12 grandkids. Almost died several times from miscarriages and raised her first 4 kids almost single-handedly. How she managed those years is now family legend. She achieved an outstanding career as head of travel at JPL. Through the years we’ve had our disagreements and yet today we love each other more than ever.

Now we face the shock of learning she has lung cancer. All of us are in different stages of the process together. After 2 weeks of tears, prayers and lots of talking, we’ve all stabilized and watched in amazement as she carries on her chemo and radiation with strong faith, peace of mind and even humor that is beyond our understanding. She tells us she’s ready for whatever God has. Ready to go if need be. We’ve said no. I need my big sister another 25-30 years. And, true to form, she’s more concerned about us than herself. The prognosis looks good. And we will win because when you’re lucky enough to be on Gloria’s team, well, you win. She’s a homerun hitter. With her kind of attitude success is a given. Here’s a woman who’s had very little help in this life. Self taught, very clear on right and wrong, loving and not afraid to step up to the plate. A winner. She’s one heck of a loved one to call the ultimate Valentine. She’s a real sweetheart. And lucky am I to call her my sister. Happy Valentine’s Day, Gloria.
EVERYBODY HAS A SWEETHEART SOMEWHERE

I used to think that the only sweetheart that could be in your life on Valentine’s Day was a romantic one of the opposite sex. Sometimes on that day, I’ve had a sweetheart and sometimes felt a little sorry for myself when I didn’t.

And then, today, I looked up the real meaning of the word sweetheart. Surprisingly, it simply means, “loved one”. My eyes filled with tears as I realized how much I’ve taken for granted the one loved one who has been there for me my whole life. An innocent little girl who was willing to lay down her life to stand by me unconditionally all our lives without any hesitation. She is my sister Gloria.

You see, we were latch key kids long before the term was invented. Our divorced working mother left 8-year-old Gloria in full charge of 6 year old me when we lived in Memphis in an unsafe area of town. Things had better be taken care of by the time Mother got home from work or we were “invited” to go outside and pick the switches with which we were spanked.

Amazingly, Gloria had common sense way beyond her years at that tender age. She had to grow up fast, set aside her own childhood, and protect me with little regard to her own safety. I was the skinny, small, pale blond little sister with thick glasses—that every neighborhood bully dreams of. Well, one day the local bully knocked me flying off my favorite swing as I soared to the top. He had to have it. Gloria overcame any fears she might have. She simply dug the gravel out of my mouth and face, cleaned me up, dried my tears, knocked on the door of the bully, and right in front of his mother, slugged him right in the face. I don’t recall that he was ever a problem again.

Twice she saved my life. Home alone one night, a burglar was coming through the window, when she grabbed me and flew down the street to a neighbor’s house. I was too paralyzed with fear to know what to do. The scariest time, though was when a strange man came to the door during school when we were home sick and said he was sent by the school to “check on us”. He mentioned the name of the local school. It wasn’t the one we attended. Sensing something was wrong, Gloria grabbed me, pushed me past him and fled down the street to a neighbor’s house. He was later arrested for multiple charges all over town.

Later, living with our grandparents, the guys came to the door everyday begging her to come play baseball. They knew what we continue to know today. If you have Gloria on your team, you win. She was the consummate tomboy, athletic and tan, who slugged the ball over the fence most of the time. She represented all that I wanted to be. Most of the bad sunburns I got in my teens were an effort to try to look like her; be her. Finally, I’ve realized it’s okay just to be me.

We were separated for many years. She was left in Memphis with grandparents and Mother. I was blessed to live with the amazing, compassionate Thomas family of Olean, New York. They transformed my life. And some years were spent with my loving Dad and his family. Well, Gloria and I grew up. We were reunited when I moved to California as an adult where she lives too. She has 6 grown kids and 12 grandkids. Almost died several times from miscarriages and raised her first 4 kids almost single-handedly. How she managed those years is now family legend. She achieved an outstanding career as head of travel at JPL. Through the years we’ve had our disagreements and yet today we love each other more than ever.

Now we face the shock of learning she has lung cancer. All of us are in different stages of the process together. After 2 weeks of tears, prayers and lots of talking, we’ve all stabilized and watched in amazement as she carries on her chemo and radiation with strong faith, peace of mind and even humor that is beyond our understanding. She tells us she’s ready for whatever God has. Ready to go if need be. We’ve said no. I need my big sister another 25-30 years. And, true to form, she’s more concerned about us than herself. The prognosis looks good. And we will win because when you’re lucky enough to be on Gloria’s team, well, you win. She’s a homerun hitter. With her kind of attitude success is a given. Here’s a woman who’s had very little help in this life. Self taught, very clear on right and wrong, loving and not afraid to step up to the plate. A winner. She’s one heck of a loved one to call the ultimate Valentine. She’s a real sweetheart. And lucky am I to call her my sister. Happy Valentine’s Day, Gloria.
EVERYBODY HAS A SWEETHEART SOMEWHERE

I used to think that the only sweetheart that could be in your life on Valentine’s Day was a romantic one of the opposite sex. Sometimes on that day, I’ve had a sweetheart and sometimes felt a little sorry for myself when I didn’t.

And then, today, I looked up the real meaning of the word sweetheart. Surprisingly, it simply means, “loved one”. My eyes filled with tears as I realized how much I’ve taken for granted the one loved one who has been there for me my whole life. An innocent little girl who was willing to lay down her life to stand by me unconditionally all our lives without any hesitation. She is my sister Gloria.

You see, we were latch key kids long before the term was invented. Our divorced working mother left 8-year-old Gloria in full charge of 6 year old me when we lived in Memphis in an unsafe area of town. Things had better be taken care of by the time Mother got home from work or we were “invited” to go outside and pick the switches with which we were spanked.

Amazingly, Gloria had common sense way beyond her years at that tender age. She had to grow up fast, set aside her own childhood, and protect me with little regard to her own safety. I was the skinny, small, pale blond little sister with thick glasses—that every neighborhood bully dreams of. Well, one day the local bully knocked me flying off my favorite swing as I soared to the top. He had to have it. Gloria overcame any fears she might have. She simply dug the gravel out of my mouth and face, cleaned me up, dried my tears, knocked on the door of the bully, and right in front of his mother, slugged him right in the face. I don’t recall that he was ever a problem again.

Twice she saved my life. Home alone one night, a burglar was coming through the window, when she grabbed me and flew down the street to a neighbor’s house. I was too paralyzed with fear to know what to do. The scariest time, though was when a strange man came to the door during school when we were home sick and said he was sent by the school to “check on us”. He mentioned the name of the local school. It wasn’t the one we attended. Sensing something was wrong, Gloria grabbed me, pushed me past him and fled down the street to a neighbor’s house. He was later arrested for multiple charges all over town.

Later, living with our grandparents, the guys came to the door everyday begging her to come play baseball. They knew what we continue to know today. If you have Gloria on your team, you win. She was the consummate tomboy, athletic and tan, who slugged the ball over the fence most of the time. She represented all that I wanted to be. Most of the bad sunburns I got in my teens were an effort to try to look like her; be her. Finally, I’ve realized it’s okay just to be me.

We were separated for many years. She was left in Memphis with grandparents and Mother. I was blessed to live with the amazing, compassionate Thomas family of Olean, New York. They transformed my life. And some years were spent with my loving Dad and his family. Well, Gloria and I grew up. We were reunited when I moved to California as an adult where she lives too. She has 6 grown kids and 12 grandkids. Almost died several times from miscarriages and raised her first 4 kids almost single-handedly. How she managed those years is now family legend. She achieved an outstanding career as head of travel at JPL. Through the years we’ve had our disagreements and yet today we love each other more than ever.

Now we face the shock of learning she has lung cancer. All of us are in different stages of the process together. After 2 weeks of tears, prayers and lots of talking, we’ve all stabilized and watched in amazement as she carries on her chemo and radiation with strong faith, peace of mind and even humor that is beyond our understanding. She tells us she’s ready for whatever God has. Ready to go if need be. We’ve said no. I need my big sister another 25-30 years. And, true to form, she’s more concerned about us than herself. The prognosis looks good. And we will win because when you’re lucky enough to be on Gloria’s team, well, you win. She’s a homerun hitter. With her kind of attitude success is a given. Here’s a woman who’s had very little help in this life. Self taught, very clear on right and wrong, loving and not afraid to step up to the plate. A winner. She’s one heck of a loved one to call the ultimate Valentine. She’s a real sweetheart. And lucky am I to call her my sister. Happy Valentine’s Day, Gloria.
EVERYBODY HAS A SWEETHEART SOMEWHERE

I used to think that the only sweetheart that could be in your life on Valentine’s Day was a romantic one of the opposite sex. Sometimes on that day, I’ve had a sweetheart and sometimes felt a little sorry for myself when I didn’t.

And then, today, I looked up the real meaning of the word sweetheart. Surprisingly, it simply means, “loved one”. My eyes filled with tears as I realized how much I’ve taken for granted the one loved one who has been there for me my whole life. An innocent little girl who was willing to lay down her life to stand by me unconditionally all our lives without any hesitation. She is my sister Gloria.

You see, we were latch key kids long before the term was invented. Our divorced working mother left 8-year-old Gloria in full charge of 6 year old me when we lived in Memphis in an unsafe area of town. Things had better be taken care of by the time Mother got home from work or we were “invited” to go outside and pick the switches with which we were spanked.

Amazingly, Gloria had common sense way beyond her years at that tender age. She had to grow up fast, set aside her own childhood, and protect me with little regard to her own safety. I was the skinny, small, pale blond little sister with thick glasses—that every neighborhood bully dreams of. Well, one day the local bully knocked me flying off my favorite swing as I soared to the top. He had to have it. Gloria overcame any fears she might have. She simply dug the gravel out of my mouth and face, cleaned me up, dried my tears, knocked on the door of the bully, and right in front of his mother, slugged him right in the face. I don’t recall that he was ever a problem again.

Twice she saved my life. Home alone one night, a burglar was coming through the window, when she grabbed me and flew down the street to a neighbor’s house. I was too paralyzed with fear to know what to do. The scariest time, though was when a strange man came to the door during school when we were home sick and said he was sent by the school to “check on us”. He mentioned the name of the local school. It wasn’t the one we attended. Sensing something was wrong, Gloria grabbed me, pushed me past him and fled down the street to a neighbor’s house. He was later arrested for multiple charges all over town.

Later, living with our grandparents, the guys came to the door everyday begging her to come play baseball. They knew what we continue to know today. If you have Gloria on your team, you win. She was the consummate tomboy, athletic and tan, who slugged the ball over the fence most of the time. She represented all that I wanted to be. Most of the bad sunburns I got in my teens were an effort to try to look like her; be her. Finally, I’ve realized it’s okay just to be me.

We were separated for many years. She was left in Memphis with grandparents and Mother. I was blessed to live with the amazing, compassionate Thomas family of Olean, New York. They transformed my life. And some years were spent with my loving Dad and his family. Well, Gloria and I grew up. We were reunited when I moved to California as an adult where she lives too. She has 6 grown kids and 12 grandkids. Almost died several times from miscarriages and raised her first 4 kids almost single-handedly. How she managed those years is now family legend. She achieved an outstanding career as head of travel at JPL. Through the years we’ve had our disagreements and yet today we love each other more than ever.

Now we face the shock of learning she has lung cancer. All of us are in different stages of the process together. After 2 weeks of tears, prayers and lots of talking, we’ve all stabilized and watched in amazement as she carries on her chemo and radiation with strong faith, peace of mind and even humor that is beyond our understanding. She tells us she’s ready for whatever God has. Ready to go if need be. We’ve said no. I need my big sister another 25-30 years. And, true to form, she’s more concerned about us than herself. The prognosis looks good. And we will win because when you’re lucky enough to be on Gloria’s team, well, you win. She’s a homerun hitter. With her kind of attitude success is a given. Here’s a woman who’s had very little help in this life. Self taught, very clear on right and wrong, loving and not afraid to step up to the plate. A winner. She’s one heck of a loved one to call the ultimate Valentine. She’s a real sweetheart. And lucky am I to call her my sister. Happy Valentine’s Day, Gloria.