Our Shared Heart of Human Nature

The news says everyone’s out to get us; not a soul thinks outside their world. I’m here to say that’s not true. When you face difficulties, people show their true colors. There’s a vein of compassion and kindness which moves to the forefront, coming alive without volition. It can’t be stopped. This mindset has its own will arising from the heart of human nature, a heart we all share.

To illustrate, I ask you to visit my
Facebook page. Folks I know intimately, know casually in person, and folks I know only through the Internet … all give hope, compassion, and freely offer prayers of good will and hearty health because they care. Maybe they realize that what’s ongoing in my life could happen to anyone and that speaks to that universal human heart … making the depth of how wonderful these people are no less real and awe-inspiring.



My husband and I visited a son, Kevin, daughter-in-law, Elise, and granddaughter, Brooklynne in California two days after receiving my initial medical news. We considered cancelling but doctors assured us we should go. Neither of us shared our news ‘til a few days before we left to return home. I told Elise and she spoke with Kevin that evening. The next day, we went to a wonderful spot in the California mountains—petting zoo, pony rides, lunch overlooking scenery only God could create—picture-perfect.

Going home, driving down the mountain, we passed a museum in an estate-like setting. Kevin was curious and pulled in. He urged me inside with him; Brooklynne wanted to come along. Turned out, this was the Edward-Dean Museum & Gardens.

He didn’t know I collect glass and love antiquities, so we were surprised to find the museum housed art glass and antiques. As we prepared for a tour through rooms brimming with antiques, he and I admired a beautiful dark blue crystal-cut decanter set with four glasses. Kevin casually asked its price and upon discovering it was a steal, just-as-casually asked the caretaker to wrap it as we toured. I assumed he was buying Elise a present, and we went on our way. Included was a collection of art glass paperweights.



Before we left, Kevin paid for the decanter set, and we returned into the bright California sunshine. I asked, “Is Elise getting a lovely surprise?” but he didn’t answer. While climbing into the backseat, I went to close the door and he handed me the packages … he’d bought them for me.

Another example—I met Sue Ketcham via the 'net and now call her a friend. She and I’ve engaged through, "A Maverick Life: The Jack Kelly Story," the biography I’m writing on actor, Jack Kelly. When I learned I faced a challenging health issue, I didn’t want to leave the Jack Kelly group without direction for any time. Right now, a publication date will be different than prior to this news, and I asked Sue if she’d co-anchor the group.



As soon as she knew my situation, she asked, “What’s your favorite color?” I didn’t answer; with so much coming my way, it didn’t really register. Today, I opened my mailbox to find a package from her. Inside was a beautiful piece of knit work in a lovely shade of turquoise. Included was a legend telling me it was a prayer shawl, created “with love,” every stitch “knitted with prayer” by Cutchogue United Methodist Church.

These instances did for me what the medical news has not yet accomplished—I cried. A lot. And while there’s fear and frustration, there’s so much gratitude for God’s giving heart, that beautiful heart of human nature through which He shines for each of us. If I didn’t cry, I wouldn’t be human, and if I weren’t human, I would be unable to share in those lovely instances of God’s love.

Thank you to everyone. Everyone!

Step Out In Faith--Then Remove Your Bra

Lord, when that thought came into my brain years ago about becoming famous—at 54—this wasn’t exactly what I had in mind. While there isn’t anything necessarily famous about my sit-chee-a-shun … I’ll make it so by virtue of how I handle it. And you’ll be there with me, every step of the way. I really, really believe that.

I’ve been diagnosed with diffuse large cell lymphoma, and that’s the last time I’ll use that word here. I won’t mention the “C” word. Wallowing, moaning & groaning will get me no-where. NOwhere. It’s 2010; advances in medicine are vast. Cures are common and in most cases, expected. I’ve had a week full of tests, and I stand to have a week or so more before that other “C” word—chemotherapy—becomes a regular part of my world.

I prefer to put my brain power and energy into the positive. Life continues. I’m gonna grow a set of cohones the likes of which many have never seen … not a pretty picture, but picture it, anywho. Give yourself a good giggle.

Here’s what I’ve learned. Take serious notes. YOU may need this advice.

1. All who keeping saying you need to stop and smell the roses—fercryinoutloud, stop talking. Do it.

2. If you’ve wanted to do something for a long time but say you don’t have time … trust me, you have time. If you continue with that useless litany, shame on you. It wasn’t that important after all.

3. Everything has a shelf life. Deal with it.



4. The idea that we should tell those we love how we feel ain’t just words. Go for it, every chance you get.

5. Laugh, laugh, laugh. Laugh you’re a** off, at everything. How can this be a bad idea?

6. Have faith. Believe. You are what you think. My God told me that, and God’s right. Always.



7. Life changes in an instant—in small ways or humongous ways. Be prepared and be flexible.

8. Learn from everything. Everything.

9. Prepare to be famous. For something. It’s coming your way.



10. Take your bra off as soon as you get in the house … an important “feel-good” moment.


I will not entertain negativity. I’ve no misconceptions of a walk in the park … but I’ll act as if I’m not only walking in the park, but stopping to smell those loverly flowers along the way. I’m enjoying the sunshine, and the Sonshine, and thankful for every blessed God-given moment. I am what I believe.

YOU are what you believe. Let’s be famous together … and tell the world about it. Find the highest mountain, have faith, start laughing—and make sure you always take your bra off ASAP for comfort.