I can’t keep track of time.
I can’t tell you what day it is.
I spend my time mostly in my desk rocking chair, thinking about what?
Mostly I think of Betty and the 80 years we spent together.
I miss holding her hand.
She always wore rubber gloves when she did dishes (I cleared the table and cleaned up, sometimes did the cooking).
On some Saturdays, we invited our family and friends to a “Waffle” breakfast.
My secret formula was that I put handfuls of crushed walnuts in the batter.
Served with yogurt and raisins (sometimes sliced bananas) they were “the best.”
“Those were the days.”
We outlived all of our friends.
When Betty passed away, I became a survivor. How long I will last, no one knows.
As long as I can, I will keep going.
(May 8, 2021)
Life is not fair.
I read in the L.A. Times about Sherpa people, far remote from us (on top of the world) in the shadow of Mount Everest.
They share the same problem that we all do, yet not on the same level.
Living in a remote, cold region with limited job opportunities, it is difficult to make a living and support their families.
On top of their normal problems, the current deadly pandemic has also enveloped them.
It “boggles” my mind when I think about the ability of people in remote areas of the world to survive infections. The virus may be controlled and dormant for a while, always ready to strike when conditions are ripe for success.
We, the world, must always be on alert. The world has survived many epidemics.
I have faith we will survive this one.
This epidemic, like others before, will end (nothing is forever).
I cannot control the actions of others.
There are not many people my age who have survived the 1918 influenza epidemic.
Danny and I will do our best to survive this one.
I hope you do, too.
Good luck, Morrie.
(May 9, 2021)
Prior to my writing, I promised to tell the truth, nothing but the unvarnished truth.
However, “Dear readers,” many of the events I’m writing about happened as much as 75 years ago.
It’s what I remember, it may not be all that happened. I may have inadvertently exaggerated. I didn’t intend to. At the age of 107, I may have forgotten (or exaggerated).
I am only human.
I forget things. (Don’t loan me money.)
(May 28, 2021)
When Betty and I thought about where to travel in Europe, we didn’t give much thought to Ireland.
I had read much about European history, but little about Ireland.
We didn’t know that Ireland had a north and south, a Protestant and Catholic contentious separation.
We didn’t know that Ireland had a sizable Jewish population with a huge impressive synagogue.
One of the reasons people travel is to broaden their knowledge of the world, see different cultures, their way of life. Certainly it was our reason.
It was by pure chance that Betty and I (on our first trip) landed in Ireland.
No long story to tell you, and I have a feeling I’ve told it before.
All writers are fearful about being repetitive (at least I am). No writer wants to bore their readers.
I try not to.
(April 29, 2021)