Can’t We All Just Get Along?

Posted by BecomingBetty

I took back my life a little over a year ago. I began exercising regularly, I improved my diet, I made a vow to try to focus on the positive instead of the negative, and my life has improved drastically as a result. Although I am still quite overweight, my health and fitness have improved to the point that most of my limitations are gone. It’s a great feeling.

As a part of the changes I joined a number of facebook groups filled with others who are facing or have faced similar challenges. As a result, I see a lot of articles about “fat shaming,” “fit shaming,” and “fat acceptance.”

I’m not sure why we need all of these labels. Wouldn’t it be great if we could all just get along? No amount of fat shaming could make me lose weight. It made me feel even worse about myself, which led to poor self esteem and misusing food as a comfort device. fat acceptance isn’t terribly helpful either. Someone telling me that they love me “just the way I am/was” still made me feel like a fat slob. We don’t tell slim people “I love you despite your fitness.”

I’m encountering a new phenomenon online (not in my personal life yet) in which a once unhealthy individual is being shunned by friends after adopting a healthy lifestyle. That’s “fit shaming.” I don’t know whether the shunning is due to the individuals’ unpreparedness to face their own health issues or whether it’s because the newly fit person talks a lot about her new lifestyle (I know I’m certainly guilty) and the old friends can’t relate.

We’re all people. We all have strengths and weaknesses. There are people in my life who are suffering from lifestyle-induced illnesses just as I was. I accept them as people – not “fat” people. There are people in my life who get tired of hearing about my runs and races and my new shoes, I’m sure. I’m fortunate that they still talk to me anyway.

I feel accepted. Most of the time I felt loved and accepted at 300+ pounds. I don’t think people like me more or less because I’ve lost weight. I’m not ashamed of where I am. I’m not ashamed of where I was. Every step of this journey teaches me more about myself and about others.

Fat or fit, gay or straight, black or white, we are worthy of love and acceptance. Meet people where they’re at. Leave the judgment for God. Let’s all get along.

~Be~

A Clean Heart (and the Cone of Shame)

Posted by BecomingBetty

Once upon a time, I had a little cat and a little dog. They were sworn enemies. One day the little dog gave chase to the little cat and caught her. Little dog created two tiny punctures in the little cat’s side. We washed them and treated them with antibiotic. They scabbed over and nearly healed, but they must have begun to itch. Little cat ripped off the scabs and the little holes became a little bigger.

We cleaned them again and they began to heal. They were looking great when little cat once again ripped the scabs off and the holes became even larger. This happened once again, and the two holes became one large gaping wound. There was still no infection, but it was a scary looking wound. We took little cat to the vet and he said that he couldn’t stitch it because the risk of infection would be too great. Instead, he fitted her with the cone of shame.

The cone of shame worked its trick. She stopped picking at her wound, and the wound got smaller and smaller until it healed once and for all.

Yesterday I spent a lot of mental energy dwelling on something someone said to someone else that wasn’t even directed at me. My child brought home an illustration from class that I thought was inappropriate. I posted it on Facebook and garnered support from my friends and began to feel self-righteous. I presented my point of view in an email to the person who originated the distasteful example and went to my “zen den” to try to let it go.

The joy of sitting in a darkened room lit only by candles, listening to soft sounds and wrapped in the warm embrace of a soft blanket is that in the stillness, God can speak to our busy minds. Last night I had such an experience. As I watched the thoughts drift in and out of my mind, a bit of scripture turned into song came into view and stayed long enough to stick.

Create in me a clean heart, O God,
and renew a right spirit within me.

-Psalm 51:10

I did not dwell on that thought last night, but the subtle experience made its impression. My husband came to find me and we watched some television together and slept peacefully.

This morning I received an email in reply to my message. The person who used the example that upset me failed to understand where I was coming from. The peace I had found in my private sanctuary last night dissolved, and I experienced, once again, the sting of perceived rejection.

I got ready for work, leashed Jimi the Wonderdog and drove to the office. My office is in disarray right now. I’ve been trying to fit too many things into too little time while worrying about too many things. I realized that no meaningful work could happen until I took care of the piles and restored proper order.

As I tidied piles and washed dirty mugs, the psalm/song came back into my mind. Sometimes we need to take a moment to clean our heart so that we can get back to work, too. Holding onto resentment allows us to go back to it time after time, picking and picking until the wound becomes larger and larger. I asked God for help to forgive and forget and to renew a spirit of tolerance, kindness and forgiveness within my heart.

I really don’t want to wear the Cone of Shame.

Love and Light,

*Be*

It isn’t all about you

Posted by BecomingBetty

It’s sometimes difficult to look at the big picture. I’ve often been guilty of seeing only how something affects me and not how the same circumstance affects those around me. It’s human nature. I don’t wear the other person’s shoes, so it’s not always easy to know how they feel. At the same time, not knowing what is plaguing others, it’s easy to misinterpret bad moods, scowls and just plain lack of friendliness as a personal assault when it’s quite possible that the person is actually distracted or consumed by events that have absolutely nothing to do with me.

Nearly two decades ago a very wise woman listened to my complaint of the day and said, “Betty, it’s not all about you.” I was taken aback. I felt attacked. I was pouring out my heart to someone who was there to listen, and she had the NERVE to tell me that my pain wasn’t about me. Seconds later, she said, again, “It’s not all about you... and you can be so glad it isn’t.”

I learned all about “Jesus Christ Syndrome” from that wise woman. She told me that I “take on the sins of the world.” I really do tend to blame myself for a lot of things. I say “I’m sorry” a lot. My friend once challenged me to go an entire week without apologizing to anyone for anything (I didn’t make it).

This morning I had a reminder that “it’s not all about me.”

My husband and I go to the gym together. I had a rough start last year. Actually, I had a (couple of) false start(s) last year. I was extremely obese, self conscious, and absolutely sure that everyone would be starting at me at the gym. I invented errands to do on the way to the gym and the errands gave me opportunities to become very upset with my poor husband about something dumb and as a result, I had an excuse to demand that he take me back home without setting foot in the gym.

After two of those incident, I finally made it past the front desk. The staff were smiling and the other members were not staring at me. I had a good time and it soon became a habit. I’ve been going regularly now for about 6 months, and until recently I’ve never had a negative experience. Recently, though, things changed.

There is a male staff member at the gym whose actions today reminded me that it isn’t all about me. I smile a lot and I say good morning to just about everyone. It’s just how I am. This guy never smiles back. Sometimes, when I am walking my warm-up laps around the track, he stands in the middle of the track to watch Fox news. He never smiles. He rarely makes eye contact. He exudes contempt.

I was really very happy this morning. Think about Tigger from Winnie the Pooh, and you’ll get a good idea of how bouncy I was feeling. I was jamming out to Time Warp, Funky Town, and other favorite tunes as I walked around the track when I came upon Mr. Muscles directly in my path. I gave him a big smile and said, “good morning!” He looked right at me, locked eyes for an uncomfortable second or two and said NOTHING.

I checked my clothing for stains. I sniffed to see if I smelled funny. I ran my fingers through my hair, made sure that I was walking the correct direction around the track, checked my shoes for dog poop and concluded that I was okay, but that he either has a problem with women in general or just with fat women. Whatever caused him to stare me down was obviously my fault. I wondered what I did wrong. I finished the workout avoiding all possibility of making eye contact with him. I lost the bounce in my step, and felt my Tigger mood transition to Eeyore.

I finished my workout and dashed down the steps, collected my belongings from the locker room and got in the car. Once we were in the safety of our car, I turned to my husband and asked him if he had noticed the tall blonde staff member wearing the Lifeguard shirt. He said he knew who I was talking to. I told him that I thought I must have irritated him because he wouldn’t even say “Good Morning.” He chuckled and said, “it’s not about you – it’s him.” Darling Hubby, too, had tried to engage Mr. Muscles. He didn’t get as far as I did because Mr. Muscles wouldn’t even make eye contact.

Darling Hubby said, “It’s obvious that guy doesn’t like his job. He doesn’t want to be here. He doesn’t like the members. He doesn’t like the work. He probably won’t be here long.”

I don’t know if Darling Hubby is right on all accounts or not. Mr. Muscles may work at the gym for a long time, but I do think he’s likely correct in stating that Mr. Muscles isn’t a happy guy. It’s not all about me, and I’m so glad it isn’t!

Today was a good reminder that it’s not all about me. Just as nobody else is responsible for my happiness, I’m not likely to single-handedly ruin someone else’s day very often – especially not a stranger.

One key to my happiness is to live my life trying to do the right thing. The words below have often been attributed to Mother Teresa. I don’t know if she actually said them, but I love them.

People are often unreasonable, irrational, and self-centered. Forgive them anyway.

If you are kind, people may accuse you of selfish, ulterior motives. Be kind anyway.

If you are successful, you will win some unfaithful friends and some genuine enemies. Succeed anyway.

If you are honest and sincere people may deceive you. Be honest and sincere anyway.

What you spend years creating, others could destroy overnight. Create anyway.

If you find serenity and happiness, some may be jealous. Be happy anyway.

The good you do today, will often be forgotten. Do good anyway.

Give the best you have, and it will never be enough. Give your best anyway.

In the final analysis, it is between you and God. It was never between you and them anyway.

It’s not all about you, and aren’t you glad it isn’t?

Simple Gifts

Posted by BecomingBetty

Years ago I read a book called “The Five Love Languages” by Dr. Gary Chapman. Through Dr. Chapman’s book, I learned several valuable lessons about myself and about my relationships, both past and present. I learned that my primary love language is gifts. I love to give gifts. It is one of the primary ways that I show others that I love them. I love to receive gifts, too. When someone takes the time to find and give me something that they feel I would enjoy, it makes me feel quite cared for.

My husband is not naturally a “gifts” person. He is an “acts of service person,” meaning he expresses his love by doing for others. (He makes me coffee every morning and does all of my laundry for me). He feels loved when I make him dinner or do work that benefits his office.

We recently had a conversation about our love languages. Somehow, I had failed previously to convey that a gift need not be expensive or complicated to make me feel loved. I gave him the example of the french-milled “real” soaps that I love. While they may be expensive for “just soap,” in the grand scheme of gifts, they are a BARGAIN at $3.00 – $5.00. I had a new bar of soap in my hands moments later, and I have enjoyed it immensely.

A sales rep that I had not seen in many years learned from my secretary that I can’t eat gluten, so her usual gift of bagels was something that I could not consume. She took the time to ask my secretary what I enjoy. My secretary told her that I love tea, and gave her some examples of the types of tea that I enjoy. The sales rep came to our appointment with a beautiful gift bag full of some of my favorite teas. I felt cared for. It cemented my relationship with her company.

Speaking of secretaries…I have the best. Knowing my love for tea, she lovingly trots across the parking lot to the little coffee shop across the street on a regular basis to bring me back a hot cup of earl gray or English breakfast tea. Although I have a huge stash of tea here at the office, she brings me a cup that someone else prepared.

As our family has grown, a large part of our family Christmas has become the exchange of homemade gifts. I’ve enjoyed homemade cheesecake, homemade vanilla extract, gorgeous plates of cookies, gluten-free brownies, handcrafted wine, and lovingly crocheted doilies and afghans.

There is no greater way for me to relax than to sit in the “zen den” that my husband lovingly created just for me and wrap myself in the loving hug of an afghan crocheted by my mother while sipping a cup of tea brewed from a gift out of a teacup chosen just for me.

Thoughtful gifts are becoming a lost art as gift cards become a common place item. I’ve been guilty many times of dashing to the store at the last minute for a fistful of plastic cards. This year I’m going to remember to keep it simple and give thoughtful gifts that my loved ones can enjoy throughout the year.

While there’s nothing wrong with presenting an elaborate or expensive gift if your budget supports it, I love the simple gifts. Kids… you’re off the hook!

Serendipity – God’s appointments

Posted by BecomingBetty

I wanted to write this post yesterday, but I was having a “first world problem.” I am writing this on a brand new (to me) computer that my oldest son configured for me right before he left the house without giving me the password. He knows most of my “usual” passwords, and I thought I had tried them all. I texted him, and I called him, and after no answer, I gave up and I enjoyed my evening. This morning when he told me the actual password, I couldn’t believe I hadn’t tried it. It was so obvious (knowing me).

I dubbed yesterday “self-care Saturday.” The planned activities centered around taking care of myself. I planned time in my “zen den” drinking a pot of tea (check). I planned coffee time with my dear husband (check). I planned a workout at the gym (check), I planned a haircut (nope) and the big daddy… I planned a 5-mile run.

It was far too beautiful to run indoors on the treadmill. The high school stadium was in use all day and all evening, so that was out of the question. I decided to run through the beautiful neighborhoods in my quaint home town. Although I have lived here for 15 years, there is so much that I haven’t seen because I am a creature of habit.

I ran to my office where my husband was mowing the lawn and re-hydrated. I ran through all of the roads in the Lagoons, and ran along the beach where my shoes promptly filled with sand. I found a conveniently-located bench and removed my shoes to shake out the sand, sat to enjoy the view, and decided to run a neighborhood I had never explored. I didn’t mean to spend 1.5 miles there, but I did, and after another run across the sand (and another stop at another bench to shake out the sand and enjoy the waves), I headed back for my office for more water (and a bag of jelly belly sport beans) and headed toward home.

Knowing I was later than I was expected home already, I called my husband and let him know where I was and what route I was taking home. I’m not sure why I did that, because I usually like to plan my route on the fly depending on how I am feeling. On my way back, I briefly thought about taking Exchange Street instead of Douglas Street like I had planned. I kept running past Exchange, and as I turned South onto Decatur, a car pulled up to the stop sign, and the driver called out, “Excuse me, is your name Betty?”

I turned and answered “yes,” and proceeded to have a conversation with the driver, who knew me from this blog. She’s a darling woman who has touched so many lives herself, and I was blessed with the opportunity to meet her face to face because I explored a new neighborhood, added 1.5 miles to my route, and followed the route I told my husband I would follow home. Now that we have met, I hope to hear more of her story.

I was walking (jogging) on a cloud the next leg of the journey. As I passed by the high school, I was flagged down by another person (this one on foot). She said, “I have seen you all over town today, and I just have to meet you.” She was looking for the 6th grade football game (it turns out she was in the wrong place for it). We had a wonderful conversation for 5-10 minutes. She told me about some of the obstacles she has had to overcome and I shared some of my story. When we parted ways, I felt that I had made yet another new friend.

I reached home and my husband was hard at work cutting up a huge tree limb (actually bigger than many trees) that fell down a short while back. I decided to blog about my experience, but it was not to be, so I spent some more time in my “fortress of peace,” my “zen den,” and fell asleep with a smile on my face.

I awoke to the sound of a high school marching band (the Festival of Bands was starting just a block away), and went out to tell dear husband that he didn’t have to cut the whole tree up in one day. I persuaded him to join me in the hot tub to listen to the bands, and I told him about the wonderful day that I had, the chance meetings, the new friends, and the experience of serendipity that made it all so special. If I had to define serendipity, I would deem it “a happy coincidence.” When my life is moving in the right direction, though, it seems these happy coincidences happen with such frequency that they don’t seem coincidental at all. I often end up learning valuable lessons from the people I meet when serendipity takes over.

In order for these meetings to happen, I had to deviate from my planned 5 mile run and run 7 miles. I had to get sand in my shoes (twice) and take time to enjoy the beautiful beach (twice). I had to run the direction that I had told my husband I would run instead of turning a block earlier like I decided I wanted to.

As I concluded the paragraph above, I received a beautiful message on Facebook from the woman I met on Douglas Street. It seems that she would not normally have been there at that time, either. She, too, remarked on the serendipity of the moment. She shared that a friend of hers calls these moments “God’s appointments.” I think she is right. We were destined to meet, and I look forward to getting to know her. Had I known the password to this machine and blogged this yesterday when I intended to, I would have done so without the benefit of knowing how truly serendipitous my meeting was yesterday.

This blog started out as a way to “just write what [I] know” because I truly enjoy writing. The fact that even one other person has found it a blessing makes me truly grateful for the ability to write. I’m off, now, to a local festival where I hope I will have the opportunity to listen when I am led, and to keep more of God’s appointments. Serendipity is the word for today.

Take the [Lunch] Bucket Challenge!

Posted by BecomingBetty

I was thrilled recently to learn that the Vermilion, Ohio chapter of the Salvation Army will be launching a backpack program for students in January of 2015. For those of you unfamiliar with the concept, a backpack program supplies children from households that are food insecure (not enough money to ensure enough food is in the house) with a backpack that is filled with food items for the child to consume on the weekend when there are no school lunches and breakfasts.

Second Harvest Food Bank partners with several local charities that sponsor backpack programs in other nearby school systems. A donation to Second Harvest or to Vermilion Salvation Army for the backpack program is a great way to get this project started.

The Ice Bucket Challenge has gotten a lot of press lately. Thousands of people have taken the challenge to either donate to a charity that funds ALS research or to douse themselves with a bucket of ice water (or both!) Whether you think the idea is ingenious or lame, there’s no question that the challenge has raised millions for ALS charities and raised awareness of the illness and its challenges.

September is Hunger Action Month. I’ve turned my Facebook Profile orange for hunger awareness. Those of you who know me already are aware that fighting hunger is an issue that is important to me – especially as it relates to children who are hungry.

For the month of September, I’m starting the Lunch Bucket Challenge. I will not eat at restaurants / fast food for the month of September. Instead, I will eat lunch at home or pack it in my lunch container and donate the savings to a local hunger program at the end of the month. Each day I will photograph my lunch and ask others to join me in this challenge.

Wednesday September 3, 2014

Seasoned grilled chicken with strawberries, blueberries, mushrooms, sliced almonds and honeyed goat cheese on a bed of romaine lettuce with a blush raspberry vinaigrette dressing (prepared and consumed at home).

I will be posting details shortly about a second fundraising initiative for hunger. Please check back for details!

The Face of Depression

Posted by BecomingBetty

The new Facebook challenge is the Mrs. Doubtfire “Helloooo” face for suicide prevention. The person challenged recreates this scene from Mrs. Doubtfire (see below) and tags three friends. Unlike the ALS challenge, there is no monetary penalty attached, but donations would, I’m sure, be gladly accepted.

Click here for more information on the Mrs. Doubtfire Challenge

Youtube Hellooooo Clip

The articles I’ve seen that promote this challenge don’t seem to spell out how this is connected to suicide or depression, other than the obvious link to Robin Williams. That’s why I’m writing to you today. You may not recognize the face of depression because those who suffer often learn to smile through the pain. We wear a mask.

When my husband committed suicide in 1998, I found a therapist to talk to. I had actually scheduled the appointment before the death happened because I was very troubled about how my life was unfolding. I’d never met this wonderful woman before, and I sat on her couch and spilled out the story of how his bipolar disorder affected my life, the events that led up to his suicide, and finding him lifeless. She didn’t say a word. She just listened. When I stopped, she looked at me and said, “you just spent the last 30 minutes telling me about upsetting things – terrible things… and the smile never left your face.”

Mrs. Doubtfire hid her “true face” with icing so the visitor wouldn’t see the truth. People who suffer from depression do that too. Smiles are effective masks. Some people use false bravado and angry attitudes to hide the sadness.

Earlier this year I had a very difficult period of time. The issues that were troubling me were not something I felt comfortable sharing with anyone else. In addition to my own troubles, real and imagined, my profession brings with it the troubles of others. All of those things added together had me feeling like a failure as a wife, a mother, a daughter, a professional, a volunteer, and a person in general. Despite it all, I went out to a local festival and tried to have fun while I was there. I talked with people, I smiled, and then I went home and crawled back into my dark cave. I posted something vague about my dark mood on Facebook, and a dear friend replied that she was concerned. She had just seen me and had no idea that anything was wrong. My mask was on. She could not see the pain.

This is the face of depression:

Currently, there is too much stigma attached to mental health issues for a campaign asking those suffering from depression to share their faces with the world so others suffering can know they are in good company. Until then, be kind to those around you. Everyone you encounter is fighting a battle you know nothing about.

Because I’m Happy! (How a rock on a bench can make the whole day brighter)

Posted by BecomingBetty

This little blog of mine has brought me a lot of happiness in the past week or so. It has given me an opportunity to share my thoughts with people I’ve never met. In doing so, I hope that I’ve brought some relevant information, some insight, or some HAPPINESS to someone who I’ve never had the opportunity to touch before.

Today I had a court hearing in a nearby town. Although my role in the proceedings went smoothly, my client was noticeably upset. This is not a happy time for her. I decided to take the scenic route back to my office. As I looked out over Lake Erie, I immediately felt calmer – happier.

My computer was applying updates when I return to the office, so I looked at Facebook on my phone. There, I saw the prettiest little stones. My friend Sue found these on a bench at the beach and she shared them on Facebook. I’ve been thinking a lot this week about how our words and actions affect others. I’ve been reminding myself to LISTEN. I’m trying to remember to SPEAK KINDLY. There on my screen were two little stones painted by an unknown giver reminding me to do just that.

I immediately sent Sue a message and asked if I could share her photo. She sent me that one and two more.The email subject was “Because I’m Happy!! Stones.” Sue’s happiness was contagious. I haven’t talked to Sue since I left an organization we were in together. I thanked her and let her know I’ve been down this week. We resolve to try to fit a lunch into our busy schedules soon.

When I opened the files, I was excited to be able to read the note that was loving placed with the stones.

Been thinking of someone lately?

Of course you have!

Don’t forget #1

YOU!

Please take a rock, they are free!

Use them to brighten your or someone else’s day!

Remember smile brightly.

Love freely.

Pay it forward.

❤ Me

One of the advantages of being self-employed is the fact that I can abandon the office in the middle of the day for a few minutes. I declared it “break time” and grabbed Jimi the Wonderdog. He brought me my leash (that’s another post) and to the beach we went to see if the stones were still there. I really hoped they were. We walked from the office to the beach in the beautiful sun and found the stones just where Sue said they would be. As we admired the collection, a lady walked up beside us and we struck up a conversation. Today was her little girl’s first day in Kindergarten. I asked where and we had a nice chat about the Montessori program she’s attending. I know of it, and I’m sure she’s going to love it! She chose a cute little turtle for her little girl, and she chose one for herself that had special meaning. We talked about why it was meaningful to her. The conversation turned to hospice care, and we discussed a hospice center we had both visited. We talked about the beauty and hope that we were both surprised to find in a facility for people who are facing death. She gave Jimi the Wonderdog some attention because she was grieving the loss of her pet. (Jimi was more than happy to oblige with some doodle love).

I had a hard time deciding whether to take the rock that said “Listen,” or the one that said “Speak Kindly.” I reached for “Listen,” and my new friend said, “That one is perfect. You know how to listen.”

Another friend I hadn’t seen for a while was the next to arrive. We talked about the stones, and life, and Jimi the Wonderdog. She gave him a bowl of water (it was hot!) and I enjoyed our chat. As I turned to walk away, I was pulled back to the bench (by the stones – not by Jimi – he is well-behaved for the most part).

There, the stone that said “Joy” called out to me. I hope the unknown artist will not mind that I helped myself to two rocks instead of one. “Joy” joined “Listen” in my pocket. We took a last look at the beach and waved goodbye to my friends.

Jimi and I walked back to the office, drank a whole bunch of water (like I said, it’s HOT!), and I set about putting words on a screen to share these cute little rocks and their message of joy with all of you.

So, my friends, be kind to yourselves. Don’t be afraid to talk to strangers. Pet someone’s dog (but ask permission first). Listen. Speak kindly. Love freely.

Thank you, joyful artist, whoever you may be. Today you touched my life in so many ways. Because you cared enough to paint some stones and arrange them on a bench by the water, my life was changed. Today I reached out to a friend I hadn’t talked to. I took a walk in the sunshine (with Jimi the Wonderdog). I met a new friend. I had a great conversation with another friend. I drank lots of water. I walked 6,000 steps.

Joyful artist, thank you for your gift. I don’t know yet how I will pay it forward, but I will begin by sharing your enthusiasm. May it inspire many others as it inspired me.

If you hurry to Main Street Beach in Vermilion, the rocks are on the bench on the left side of the platform. While you’re there, visit the Little Free Library, buy a cold drink from the volunteers at the Shore Thing stand (tell them I sent you), and enjoy all that life has to offer.

That’s how a little rock can made the whole day brighter.

On grieving a suicide

Posted by BecomingBetty

I posted this as a status on Facebook yesterday. Several people found it meaningful and shared it. I’m posting it again here for those who aren’t part of my Facebook community.

The Robin Williams story has me feeling very sad today. As many of you know, I was widowed in 1998 when my husband took his own life. He was no celebrity, but there were still people who needed to satisfy their morbid curiosity about our private life and even a local newspaper reporter who decided to add the details of his death to his obituary.

My heart goes out to Williams’ wife and children. I pray that now that their private pain has been made so public that the media will allow them privacy to grieve. I hope that the “buzz” will turn from the manner of his death to a celebration of his life.

I’m no expert on mental health or theology, but I believe that suicide is the ultimate act of desperation when it seems that all hope of happiness is lost. I believe that a loving God recognizes that the act is one of desperation not based in sinful thoughts, and that the victim of that desperation should be judged on the life he lived, and not on the singular act that ended it.

There are so very many moments in Robin’s career that touched me, made me laugh, or made me think. Once favorite film was the 1990 drama Awakenings. In one scene, Robin’s character Dr. Sayer is having a conversation with his patient, Leonard, played by Robert DeNiro:

Leonard Lowe: We’ve got to tell everybody. We’ve got to remind them. We’ve got to remind them how good it is.

Dr. Sayer: How good what is, Leonard?

Leonard Lowe: Read the newspaper. What does it say? All bad. It’s all bad. People have forgotten what life is all about. They’ve forgotten what it is to be alive. They need to be reminded. They need to be reminded of what they have and what they can lose. What I feel is the joy of life, the gift of life, the freedom of life, the wonderment of life!

Somehow, Robin lost sight of that wonderment. The world lost a great talent. If you are reading this, please take to heart that you are a gift to the rest of us. The world will be less rich, colorful, and diverse without your talents, abilities, and experience.

I thank each of you for the moments we have shared. There has been more than one time when I have been in despair, and a friend has reached out just to say hello, and that has made a tremendous difference in my ability to face whatever obstacle was in my path.

We cannot take responsibility for others’ acts, but we can resolve to be kinder, and to touch the lives of those around us.

I didn’t mean to write a book here… but thank you for reading it anyway. My life is richer for having you in it.

B