✨KITTING AROUND✨
BLOG 347–I Don’t Want To Die!
(But I Do Want To Live Fully!)
Is this a masterpiece each time? I try to.
Explore new corners, dive into your imagination.
Just Say YES to LIFE, it isn’t a zombie shuffle to bedtime.
Crank up the music and turn your living room into a dance floor.
Grab some oranges and juggle them right there in the grocery aisle.
Laugh so hard the walls shake and the neighbors start making up theories.
It’s a carnival waiting for you to join the parade, celebrating every stage of life!
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I write, create, and share to spark something deep within us—to pause, breathe, and really see this wild thing called LIFE from a new angle. To lift our gaze from the ordinary and notice the extraordinary that’s been quietly waiting in the corners all along. ✨
My work is an open invitation: to question the scripts we were handed, to trade autopilot for aliveness, and to remember that our days are not meant to be endured but crafted. I believe that living differently and living better isn’t a luxury—it’s a responsibility. Each choice, each act of courage, each moment of kindness becomes part of the legacy we leave behind. 
When we dare to think differently, we begin to grow taller on the inside.
You can stretch your spirit, expanding your heart,
And see the world not as it is, but as it could be.
So, I write to ignite that spark in you.
I create to remind us that wonder is still possible.
And I share to weave us together—each story, each lesson, each laugh.
Every thread in the great tapestry of a life well-lived (your life!)
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This BLOG is best read on a laptop or desktop computer.
MY STORY IN A NUTSHELL (with Extra Sprinkles) :
♂️ Once upon a time, I was a world-class juggler. Spoiler: I still juggle—mostly joy.
Life tested me with curveballs: A 37-day coma, two truck accidents, and somehow I’m still smiling.
I spent six years living in a van, chasing sunsets and collecting memories in every U.S. national park.
Love found me, lost me, and then surprised me with a wedding on 2/22/22 at 2:22.
I’ve crisscrossed the globe, helping people rise higher than they thought possible (YOU!)
❤️ And here I am, still learning, loving, and lighting sparks.
Because the story is never over—it just gets juicier.
Want a glimpse? Watch this >> https://www.youtube.com/watch?v=Lr8QFnD1yGc
THIS IS THE STUFF THAT TURNS “JUST SURVIVING” INTO THRIVING.
THE PAST? ☎️
The past is a wise old guide. Take its lessons, tip your hat, and keep walking forward.
History is there to help you; learn from what has occurred in your life.
Because the road ahead is waiting, sparkling with possibility.
Smile, tip your hat, pocket the wisdom, and keep striding toward the horizon.
It’s a wise old storyteller, full of campfire tales and lessons whispered in the wind.
THE FUTURE?
That’s a playful trickster.
It’s always sneaking up with surprises.
Don’t fear it — dance with it — it is playtime.
Shape it — Claim it — make it yours.
It arrives whether you’re ready or not … so why not be dazzling when it does?
AND THE PRESENT?
Ah, this is your playground!
Throw glitter in the air.
Laugh so hard the moon takes notes.
Turn the ordinary into a disco ball and let it shine.
Make the ordinary sparkle like it’s wearing sequins.
“Here’s to chasing brilliance with reckless joy.
Blazing a trail that shimmers with possibility.
Sprinkling a little mischief along the way!”
—Kit Summers, your cosmic cheerleader
WHY I WRITE THIS BLOG?
✨Because life is a dazzling, untamed kaleidoscope—too vibrant, quirky, and electric to keep to myself! Each post is a burst of ideas, stories, and hard-won wisdom, sparkling like confetti from epic adventures, glorious fumbles, and that stubborn spark that won’t quit.
PROOF!
✨Every change I walk through proves I can adapt, rise, and keep shaping life into something brighter. These shifts aren’t setbacks—they are upgrades—it is how you see things. They are invitations to keep growing, to keep building a body and spirit that can carry me farther. You can do the same!
I’VE MET CHANGE TOO MANY TIMES.
CHANGE DOESN’T SCARE ME ANYMORE.
EVERY SINGLE TIME, I COME OUT STRONGER!
Make any changes you go through improve your life!
Embrace change and use it as a tool to shape a more fulfilling life.
THE BEAM
Fear? That’s dead weight.
Courage is the fuel for living.
Change boldly. Aim for magnificence.
You don’t get a rerun of this life—so advance, evolve, reinvent.
I’m not some drill sergeant barking at you—I’m the flashlight buddy.
THE MAP?
Forget the stiff, folded kind.
Your’s is a wild canvas.
You weren’t built for beige.
You were wired for fizz.
For fireworks.
Don’t get lost.
You were made for this, remember?
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THINGS THAT HAPPENED THIS WEEK >>
My new juggling balls arrived, all ten of them. No, I will not work up to juggling all 10; 3 will do for now. I’d like to get back up to juggling 5, though. But when I throw up 5 balls, it is a pattern that I don’t recognize. It is basically a jumbled mess.
The window out of my room, a nice view.
I stayed close to home and hardly even left the building.
This week, my daughter, April, had her baby!
A new grandpa am I—a new life is in the world.
You can read more and see photos later.
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BLOG 347–I Don’t Want To Die!
Here comes death, are you ready?
Something humans don’t often think about is coming —so get ready.
It is right there in front of you; have no fear.
Did I scare you? I didn’t mean to. It is just a part of Life.
A few times in my life, I was on death’s doorstep.
I was able to come back to life again.
It is never too early (or too late) to start again, YES, you can!
Embrace aging with quiet dignity.
As you are advancing in age.
Never lose your hope.
Never lose your vision.
You still have much to do to add to the world
I STILL FEEL LIKE I’M 23–
HOW ABOUT YOU?
START NOW!
You have so much to do before your death.
Older age is not a point of slowdown.
It’s a point to start getting to what you have
been thinking about but haven’t started >>
Design and build that garden!
Let your hands dive into the soil.
Messy, alive, humming with secret energy.
Every seed is a promise.
Each sprout a whisper: “You’re still growing, too.”
Write that book you’ve been meaning to!
The one that’s been tapping at your ribs, begging to get out.
Spill your heart across the page.
The world’s waiting to read your fingerprints in ink.
Throw a party for life, not death!
Crank up the music, pop the confetti!
Invite the neighbors of your soul.
Celebrate breath, chaos, laughter.
The wild fact that you’re here.
Learn to juggle!
Not just balls or clubs—but moments, moods, dreams.
Drop some, catch some, laugh through it all. ♂️
Yes—death is coming.
But so what? Playtime is happening right now!
The swings are empty, the sun is out, and your turn is waiting. ☀️
Your life has just begun–no matter what age you are.
Jump in with weight and wonder, arms wide and heart ridiculous.
You’re the miracle in motion. Go make the air shimmer.
Live as if it matters, not as if it ends.
Mortality is a teacher, not a tyrant.
And here’s a twist: sometimes it helps to live as if today is your first day.
Imagine the curiosity, wonder, and wide-eyed awe.
First-day freshness meets last-day urgency—that’s where life really glows.
Old age is the final stage of life, typically defined as 65 years or older, though this varies by culture and individual. Physical and cognitive changes characterize it and are often associated with retirement. I’m 66 now and feel like I am still just starting. There is so much to do! Age 100—here I come!
This will tell you about reaching 100– https://www.youtube.com/watch?v=zs1a8tFsvdc
Old age is in stages:
Early-old (65-74).
Middle-old (75-84).
Late-old (85-99).
YOU’RE THERE! (100+).
The Finish line?
Don’t live like the finish line is breathing down your neck; remember, there is no finish line.
Live like you’ve just been handed the rarest treasure on earth:
This very day, unwrapped and waiting.
Dance with it.
Laugh with it.
Build something wild and wonderful out of it.
Because today isn’t a countdown—it’s a confetti cannon.
Death—what a curious curtain call! It’s when the body takes its final bow, the orchestra of heartbeats, breaths, and blinks going still. Every living thing eventually joins the grand finale, returning its borrowed stardust to the universe. And once the show’s over, the body begins its slow dance back into the earth—an encore of change, not disappearance.
When I die, I don’t want to be boxed away or buried beneath a marble nameplate–What a waste of space on the earth. No, I want to return—to melt back into the wild hum of creation. Let my body rest among trees and moss, where roots can weave through me and insects can celebrate a feast of renewal. ✨
That feels like the most authentic living—feeding the same Earth that once fed me. I like to imagine wildflowers springing from where I return, bright and unbothered, a little whisper of joy in the wind. Death, to me, isn’t an ending—it’s a continuation, a homecoming, a soft reunion with everything that’s ever breathed or bloomed.
Encouraging perspectives on death emphasize that love creates an enduring connection, that a life well-lived is never truly forgotten, and that death is a natural part of Life’s cycle rather than a complete end. Words of encouragement focus on the lasting legacy of loved ones through memories and their continued influence, framing death as a transition and a reminder to live each moment fully.
✨ STILL BEGINNING, ALWAYS BECOMING ✨
As you may know, I’ve never placed my faith in the gods humanity has invented. Thousands of them have come and gone, carved from imagination and hope—but I’ve yet to see one step out of myth and into proof.
One of the latest is Jesus as god. This unproven idea is far from me.
I always ask a believer who is trying to convert me–
“Tell me your one BEST reasonable and rational proof of your god”.
and
“Tell me why I should believe in this god”.
No one ever has an answer. Do you? Let me know.
And you know what? That’s fine. If there is a god, that god would understand how my mind works and send me a version worth following. Until then, I’ll keep living as though life itself is the divine spark, and creation is my prayer.
I’ve long believed no one should be able to leave this planet without first adding something to it—something that feeds, inspires, or lifts others. I’ve written books that help people grow; others raise children who will carry the light forward. And, I hope this blog lifts people (YOU!). ✨
However you do it—through art, kindness, laughter, or guidance—leave the world a little better because you passed through. You get this one chance, make it happen! Make the change to a better Earth for future populations! ✨
Maybe your gift is a smile that softens a stranger’s day, a story that stirs someone’s courage, a hand that lifts another from the dark. It doesn’t have to be grand or loud—ripples begin quietly, in the small moments where love meets action.
Let your life be a brushstroke of light across the canvas of time. Create, forgive, build, dance, plant, teach—whatever hums your heart and helps others. Every gesture, every word, every breath has the chance to grow beauty in places it’s been forgotten.✨
And when your footprints fade, may the path behind you shimmer with quiet light—proof that your laughter once danced there, your courage once burned bright, and your kindness left sparks for others to find their way by.
I miss my mom deeply, yet the memories she left shimmer like lanterns in my soul—each one a gentle reminder of her laughter, kindness, and love that still wraps around me like sunlight through the trees. She’s the best mom I could have ever had.
Even though Mom’s no longer here in body, her spirit still hums in the background—soft as wind through trees—reminding me: keep going, keep loving, keep shining. I hope my sister, Willow, feels that warmth, too. Mom raised us all with a steady heart. ✨
Families can twist and tangle, but love has its own straight line. Willow and I share a lifetime of memories, even if we didn’t share a father. For me, she’s always been blood, full stop. We grew up side by side, and I still carry that bond. I love you, Kath—always have, always will.
Sandy, my other sister, came into my life differently—same dad, different mom—but still part of the same wide story. We didn’t grow up together, so she feels a bit like a cousin, though the affection runs deep. She’s in her eighties now, standing strong through her husband’s dementia, still the same kind soul. ♀️
And my brothers … Mike and Gary. Both gone too soon. Mike was running across a freeway when he was hit and killed. My brother, Gary, was taken when he rolled a jeep while off-roading. No seat belt–drinking beer–watch out! The eerie twist is that my older brother’s son was with Gary when they rolled the vehicle; they died together. Gary and I shared both parents; losing him felt like losing part of my own reflection. ️
Through all this, the thread remains—family, in all its shapes and silences. The ones who left, the ones who stay, the ones who whisper from beyond: keep shining. See your own family this way and help whoever you can to grow bigger and better.
Let the warmth of your kindness linger like sunlight after rain. May laughter echo in the spaces you once filled, and may the seeds you planted—in hearts, in hopes, in tiny corners of the world—keep growing long after you’ve gone. Leave this world a better place for all future humans.
Because every gentle word, every brave choice, every spark of joy you shared becomes part of something larger. The glow you leave behind isn’t just memory—it’s momentum. It reminds others to walk a little softer, to dream a little wilder, and to keep the world blooming.
So what if you’ve just turned 88? Big deal—you’re still smack in the middle of the adventure! You’ve got stories to write, skies to watch, and laughter to spill. Some people haven’t yet been dazzled by your smile or touched by your kindness—so, yes, your mission continues. I plan to live past 100 myself, stirring the cosmic soup, planting outrageous seeds of joy, and watching what blooms.
Each sunrise still whispers, “Try again. Begin again.” And I listen. Every single day feels like page one of a brand-new chapter, because it is. You could live that way, too—because life keeps rewarding those who keep showing up, curious and unafraid.✨
Age doesn’t close doors—it paints them brighter.
This is the room where I do much of my therapy.
So open today’s door wide.
There’s light waiting to meet you.
Physical changes toward death >>
Increased sleep: A person may sleep 16 to 18 hours daily.
Reduced appetite and thirst: As the body’s metabolism slows, food and water intake decrease significantly, sometimes to small sips or bites.
Weight loss is common as the body requires less energy.
Decreased activity: They may become weaker and less active, preferring to sit quietly or lie in bed.
Skin color changes: Circulatory changes can cause limbs to appear pale, purplish, or blotchy.
Lowered body temperature: Body temperature may be reduced by a degree or more.
Mental and emotional changes
Confusion or disorientation: They may experience confusion or disorientation.
Introspection: It’s common for people to become more reflective about their lives.
For me, a funeral should be a celebration time, a “FUNeral”; often it is sadness and crying. I have to admit, though, I cried at the last get-together for my mom on her death. In my mind, I kept repeating, “Mom should be here now!” Rather than tears and sadness, every death should be a celebration of the life this person lived.
And you, reading this, start celebrating your life now!
Keep it growing until your death (and beyond).
Get to the things you delight in and the people you love.
Constantly think of your life beginning again—BECAUSE IT IS!
=====WORDS AND QUOTES THAT SPARK====
Quotes aren’t just words on a page—they’re tiny lightning bolts, buzzing with wisdom and ready to jolt you awake. One line can flip your mood, widen your heart, or shove you off the couch and into a brand-new adventure.
A FEW SPARKS TO SLIP INTO YOUR POCKET >>
“The moment you doubt whether you can fly,
You cease forever to be able to do it.”
– Eckhart Tolle
“Death should be a celebration time for the person’s life.”
– Kit Summers
“Beginnings are usually scary and endings are usually sad,
But it’s everything in between that makes it all worth living.”
– J. M. Barriem
“When he shall die,
Take him and cut him out in little stars,
And he will make the face of heaven so fine.
That all the world will be in love with night,
And pay no worship to the garish sun.”
– Bob Marley
“I’m not afraid of death;
I just don’t want to be there when it happens.”
― Woody Allen
“To the well-organized mind,
Death is but the next great adventure.”
― J.K. Rowling
“Love never dies a natural death.
It dies because we don’t know how to replenish its source.
It dies of blindness, errors, and betrayals.
It dies of illness and wounds.
It dies of weariness, of witherings, of tarnishings.”
― Anais Nin
“I wish it had not happened in my time,” said Frodo.
“So do I,” said Gandalf, “and so do all who live to see such times.
But that is not what they decide.
All we have to decide is what to do with the time given us.”
― J.R.R. Tolkien
“I’m the one that’s got to die when it’s time for me to die.
So let me live my life the way I want to.”
― Jimi Hendrix
“The fear of death follows from the fear of life.
A man who lives fully is prepared to die at any time.”
― Mark Twain
“There is a sacredness in tears.
They are not a mark of weakness, but of power.
They speak more eloquently than ten thousand tongues.
They are the messengers of overwhelming grief,
of deep contrition, and of unspeakable love.”
– Washington Irving
“I watch the ripples change their size.
But never leave the stream.
Of warm impermanence”
– David Bowie
“It is not death that a man should fear,
But he should fear never beginning to live!”
– Marcus Aurelius
“The fear of death follows from the fear of life.
A man who lives fully is prepared to die at any time.”
– Mark Twain
“Some people are so afraid to die that they never begin to live.”
– Anonymous
“I would rather die a meaningful death than live a meaningless life.”
– Anonymous
“It is not death that a man should fear, but he should fear never beginning to live.”
– Marcus Aurelius
“The fear of death follows from the fear of life. A man who lives fully is prepared to die at any time.”
– Mark Twain
“To live in hearts we leave behind is not to die.”
– Thomas Campbell
“Death leaves a heartache no one can heal, love leaves a memory no one can steal.”
– Unknown
“Unable are the loved to die, for love is immortality.”
– Emily Dickinson
“What we have done for ourselves alone dies with us; what we have done for others and the world remains and is immortal.”
– Albert Pike
“Death is not the opposite of life, but a part of it.”
– Anonymous
“For death is no more than a turning of us over from time to eternity.”
– Anonymous
“When your time comes to die, be not like those whose hearts are filled with fear… Sing your death song, and die like a hero going home.”
– Tecumseh
“Cowards die many times before their deaths; the valiant never taste of death but once.” – William Shakespeare.
“Death smiles at us all, but all a man can do is smile back.”
– Anonymous
“Some people are so afraid to die that they never begin to live.”
– Anonymous
“I would rather die a meaningful death than live a meaningless life.”
– Anonymous
STICK THESE QUOTES ON YOUR FRIDGE.
WHISPER THEM TO YOURSELF BEFORE BED.
PASS THEM ALONG TO SOMEONE WHO NEEDS THEM.
REMEMBER, WORDS ARE VITAMINS FOR THE SOUL.
MY DAILY JOTTINGS!
Upgrade your thoughts—watch your world glow brighter!
✨ Life can shift instantly—sometimes all it takes is one bold thought.
Go ahead, craft your noble book, your masterpiece—why not a best-seller?
You are dazzling, brilliant, unstoppable—so step into the spotlight and shine your part!
The universe is cheering for you—so dream big, play big, and LIVE big!
Remember, no matter where you are, you can spin things around quickly.
️ Then race toward your wildest, most colorful dreams!
Chase awe like it’s oxygen and spill joy like it’s confetti.
♂️Turn fear into a trampoline—you don’t dodge it, you bounce higher off it.
Step off the curb like it’s a stage. Rewrite the rules in neon.
⛓️ The world doesn’t need your half-versions, your safe edits.
☔ It requires your bold lines, glittering messes, and full-throttle heart.
So—throw the ordinary a wink.
Playfulness isn’t frivolous; it’s rebellion.
Inspiration isn’t distant; it’s in your next breath.
10/18–Right now, the guy across the hall from me is moaning and screaming like he is in pain. They tell me he is not. His brain injury left him like this, so sad it is. Come to think of it, I could have been damaged like this man—a scary thought.
I just watched Rain Man, an excellent flick, for a few hours.
I ordered and received 10 juggling bean bag balls today. These are from https://higginsbrothers.com/; some excellent things to juggle with. With these bean-bean balls, you do not have to run after them when and if you drop. I got an enormous size, about 3 inches each.
I’m looking forward to throwing them around.
When I was starting and in my first years of juggling, I used Viceroy Lacrosse Balls. These had a good bounce, and I had to learn to juggle without dropping. I would have to run after them to retrieve the ball I dropped.
Some years later, I got Brian Dube https://www.dube.com/ to start making and selling silicone balls. These balls are excellent to juggle, but they are over $30 each! (and well worth it.) They have an incredible bounce and a good feel in your hand.
10/19–Sunday moves at its sleepy pace, like the world taking a long, slow breath. ️
I spent the day pouring myself into this blog—my little love letter to life–to you! Every word and idea is meant to lift you higher, to remind you that even endings can glow with beauty and meaning. The topic is death, yes—but not as darkness. I’m shaping it as a celebration, a return, a transformation. My death, when it comes, will be a wild, fantastic event—my final dance with the universe.
Still, I’ll be honest. It’s quiet here. Too quiet sometimes. Loneliness sits beside me like a shadow, but instead of fearing it, I try to talk to it—to listen. Maybe that’s where love grows strongest, in the spaces where we wait to be seen.
You’re part of why I write—neither of us should feel alone.
10/20 — A Day of Dirt, Drops, and Determination!
Slept till 5 a.m.—that’s practically a lazy Sunday sleep-in for me.
The morning stretched like a yawn, full of small mysteries waiting to be solved.
9:00 a.m. — Detective Duo: The Case of the Chewed Leaves
Terrie and I grabbed our invisible magnifying glasses and headed to the garden. The tomato leaves looked like someone had been snacking on them—nature’s version of vandalism! We staked up the little green dreamers, giving them the backbone they deserved, and planned a Neem oil rescue mission. Those plants are fighters, and honestly, I love that about them.
10:00 a.m. — Brain Gymnastics: The Game of “Set”
Next came “Set”—a wild parade of colors, shapes, and shades.
My brain? Refused to play along. It was like juggling fog.
I didn’t win, but not every circus act earns applause.
11:00 a.m. — Gravity’s Revenge: Juggling on the Lawn
Then Maryann and I crossed the street—freedom just a few careful steps away. The big lawn called out, green and wide, my old stage returned. But today? Gravity had attitude. Three clubs turned into thirty. Still, the air smelled of possibility, and the talk of independence—crosswalk, inhaler, sidewalk—felt like steps toward my open horizon.
Energy: Missing in Action
Something in me was running on empty today.
No clue why.
The universe might hit pause for a bit.
Even jugglers need a breath between tosses.
Afternoon: Cornhole Carnival
Later came the Cornhole competition—ten players, flying beanbags, and laughter bouncing off the walls. I didn’t play, but I helped. Watching them find joy in simple throws was enough. There’s beauty in standing behind the curtain, cheering others on.
Noon-ish — The Hungry Hour
Lunch is marching this way, and I’m ready to greet it like an old friend. ️
Even when the rhythm’s off, the heart keeps time.
Today wasn’t perfect—but it was alive.
10/21 — 8 a.m., The broom brigade rolled through early, sweeping the hallway like a quiet parade. I always toss a “thank you” their way. Sure, it’s their job, but gratitude costs nothing and leaves a shine behind it. A simple thank you polishes both sides of the moment.
At 9 a.m., I dove into “Cognitive Group.” Lilly led the charge—eight of us, all graduates of the Brain Scramble Academy, exploring the quirks and gaps of memory. Today’s prize find: “Anosognosia”. A mouthful, right? It means being unaware of your own condition—like denial’s fancy cousin with a medical degree. I tucked it in my vocabulary pocket with a grin. New words always taste good. Denial, me? Well…
After that, Terrie gathered the troops for a Publix expedition. Our mission: gather supplies to make delicious chocolate chip cookies. (I’m the designated baker; brace for delicious chaos.) Along the aisles, we chatted about the big leap back into the “real world.” Strange how that place, once ordinary, now feels like a wild frontier. Memory’s the map I’ll need to redraw.
I skipped the official exercise group at 11 and decided to bring the gym to my room instead. I got my little corner set up just right. Who needs a class when you’ve got stubbornness and floor space?
Tomorrow—who knows?
More words.
Maybe more cookies.
Maybe both.
10/22 — The Morning Glow
Awoke around 1 a.m.—quiet hours, when the world still hums softly beneath the surface. Rising slowly, I stepped into the main room and was greeted by a nurse poking her head in to check on me. I teased her—”Making sure I’m still alive?” We both smiled. It’s good to be seen, even in the small hours.
I’d forgotten to bring the trash can into the room last night, and sure enough, the “trash bag fairies” had struck again—gone with the whole bag; it was nearly empty! It’s a funny little reminder: even waste has its ways of teaching us to be mindful. I’ll keep the can with me tonight.
Across the hall, Bob began his usual morning soundtrack—groans and mutterings spilling into the quiet. His injury keeps him trapped inside thoughts that twist and turn, but maybe, deep down, there’s still a flicker of life that hums just like the rest of us. I like to think so.
Each day here, I try to find a spark—a reason to grin, to notice, to care. Even a stolen trash bag or a midnight check-in carries its own strange beauty. The world keeps spinning, and I’m still part of its rhythm. And that, right there, is enough to start the day with hope.
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With Terry’s help, I made a batch of my chocolate chip cookies.
Make some, you will love them.
Kit’s Chocolate Chip Cookies
Mix:
4 sticks of butter, melted in a microwave
4 eggs, broken up with a fork
1/4 cup Kalua
1/4 cup vanilla
2 teaspoons of baking soda
1 teaspoon of salt
Then, in a different bowl. Mix:
1 1/2 cup sugar
1 1/2 cup brown sugar
5 cups of flour
Then mix the two as you add 4 cups of chocolate chips.
Bake at 325 for 16 minutes.
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Then I laughed at myself—why did I make those irresistible cookies when I’m trying to lose weight? The smell alone was a calorie.Still, I’ve got a plan: share the sweetness, keep just enough to taste. Generosity as portion control, right? You in for one—or two?
The cookies turned out to be my OT workout for the day—mix, stir, lift, repeat.
Later, Maryann and I traded the kitchen for the gym: balance and weights—my duet with gravity. Every rep felt like a reminder that I’m still strong, still moving, still becoming. The best part? I learned I can drop by anytime to use the free weights. My kind of open-door policy. Strength, waiting right down the hall, ready for another round. ✨
APRIL’S BABY–REMEMBER?
Oh, Kit — what a bright spark of news.
This blog is mainly written about death, but there is life today!
A new life, fresh as morning light. Your granddaughter, Penelope Mae, is already weaving her name into the story of your family—seven pounds of promise, twenty inches of wonder — and a love that just multiplied.
You’ve walked countless roads, juggled a thousand dreams, and now here she is — a new heartbeat carrying your rhythm forward. The world just got a little softer, a little wider, a little more possible.
April and Jake must be glowing, tired, and amazed in that way only new parents know. Soon you’ll see that tiny face on the screen — those first small gestures that will anchor your heart in a whole new way.
Yes, a happy guy you are.
And with good reason —
Your legacy just learned to smile.
Here comes the evening rambling and sounds from Bob across the hall.
He gets so loud and sounds like he is in pain most of the time–I am told he is not.
This is definitely not pleasant to listen to. In other words, get me outta here!
A Day of Movement, Mind, and Mischief
The morning kicked off with Maura in OT at the gym, 9 to 10 a.m. She pulled out a restaurant catalog for a “visual scanning” game—basically, a scavenger hunt through a sea of salt shakers and soup spoons. My brain wasn’t thrilled, but I did it anyway. Missed two items—mystery still unsolved! Then we escaped to greener pastures, watering plants that seemed far more alive than that catalog. 
Next came Lilly at 10 a.m.—sharp mind, kind eyes. We’re crafting a new therapy structure together, a bit like rebuilding a bridge while still walking across it. She noticed some memory quirks in me that I hadn’t caught. I nodded, though part of me whispered, “Really?”
By 11:30, it was gym time again with Maryann. Balance work—my eternal tango with gravity. Turns out I tilt my head slightly left, like a confused pigeon. She’s helping me retrain that habit, step by steady step. Later, she and I hunted down a board to slide under my chair cushion—suddenly, I’m sitting taller, prouder. My sister Willow will be happy; she’s been after me about posture for ages.
The afternoon brought the big conference call:
Eight people, including my daughter Jasmine and Myles.
The topic? Me.
My progress, my challenges, my memory.
Everyone’s kind but serious.
The consensus: “Kit’s memory has some gaps.”
My view: “I’m fine, just busy being brilliant.”
The funny thing is, I still feel like I am in jail while here.
Every day, I keep learning—about plants, posture, balance, and, yes, patience.
Even the boring bits have hidden sparks if I look closely enough. ✨
Life can be a pleasure trip for you, if you make it that way.
As usual, up by 3am. Four or five hours of sleep each night are enough for me, there are more important things to be concerned about. Either way, your LONG sleep will be here before you know it, so get to things you desire before that point.
Bob, across the hallway, is already making his moaning sounds like he is hurting. I guess in his mind he is, because of his brain injury, mixed up. Some of the other people staying here have escorts who are always with them. When I was first here I did, what a strange thing that was.
In OT with Maura in the gym. This took place between 9 am-10 am. We went through a restaurant catalog, and I had to match some things up. Boring for me, but I did it. There were a few errors, which surprised me. These errors occurred because the correct item was not found. I missed two items and couldn’t find them. This was to help with visual scanning.
We went out to check on and water the plants,
From 10-10:30, I met with Lilly. We are working on a new therapy structure, and I am learning it. She did point out a few memory things I need help with.
10/24–11:30 PT with Maryan in the gym. We did more balance exercises, and mine was way off. Maryann noticed a while ago that I often tilt my head to the left, just a little. I guess my body took this to be normal, which is going to be hard to correct over time.
Then we went up to my residence (where I lay my head) and found a small board to place under the cushion. This makes me sit up taller when I am on the computer. I do sit up better this way. My sister, Willow, has also been concerned about my posture. I hope I am settling her mind.
This afternoon, there was a conference call with about 8 people, including some of my therapists. My Daughter, Jasmine, was also on the call, as well as Myles. A number of subjects were discussed about how I am doing. Mainly, it seems, they are finding my memory is defective. I don’t see that, myself, but there you go.
10/24–Sadly, just a couple of therapies set up for today.
Right now, I am outside Lillie’s door at 11:25 for speech therapy, my normal five minutes early. And, as usual, the therapist was five minutes late. We basically just talked. He hadn’t prepared any educational speech material, so there wasn’t any.
As I often do, I arrived 15 minutes early.
2 pm, Maryann and I went across the street so I could throw 3 clubs. Throwing the 3 clubs was not the problem; catching them is a different story. I was to the p; point where I could, pretty easily, keep 3 clubs going for twenty throws, then I would do a fancy finish. Today, I was lucky if I got 5 throws.
I had taught Maryann to juggle 3 balls in the past; she did about as well as I did, not a good day for juggling.
I could make excuses about being too old, but I won’t.
The Garden of Becoming
The new garden I’m building will take center stage soon—
Watch it unfurl as green shoots rise and blossoms announce themselves.
Everyone should have their own garden.
You plant.
You nurture.
You harvest.
You begin again.
Each bloom, a standing ovation.
Each sprout is a whispered promise.
Each fallen leaf is a graceful bow to the cycle of renewal.
Why We Garden
1–It lifts your spirit and strengthens your confidence.
2–Your heart beats healthier for it.
3–Stress dissolves like dew in the morning sun.
4–Happiness takes root and spreads.
5–Your hands grow stronger, more capable.
6–Families bond over soil-stained fingers and shared meals.
7–Sunshine provides vitamin D and warmth to your bones.
8—Food you grow makes your body glow.
9–Neighbors meet, friendships sprout.
10–Families deepen together.
11–Communities connect, expand, and thrive.
12–Worries about hunger shrink as self-sufficiency grows.
Pulling a carrot from your own earth isn’t just food—it’s triumph wrapped in crunch. It’s a declaration that patience, soil, and a little faith can produce flavors no store can sell. Sun-warmed tomatoes, basil perfuming your hands, strawberries gleaming like rubies beneath their crowns—miracles disguised as everyday bites.
And the enchantment doesn’t end outside. Indoors, life sneaks into any crack of light it can find. Herbs on the sill glow like emerald lanterns. Mason jars turn into miniature jungles. A stray pot of mint dares you to taste the freshness in your water glass seconds after plucking. Growth improvises, adapts, insists.
A salad bar sprouting within arm’s reach of your sink.
A curtain of green where once was bare glass.
And tiny jungles humming in corners of your home.
Growth never truly stops—it just shifts form. Begin with a pot, a box, a borrowed square of dirt. Watch what happens, not only to the soil, but to you as well. Because in caring for life, you’ll find your own edges softened, your clock slowed, your days reminded of this truth:
Life itself is one vast garden—unpredictable, abundant, forgiving.
MY NEXT CHAPTERS
I’m not winding down—I’m revving up.
I have at least another hundred years of laughter, learning, and love.
The world is waiting for your story, too.
It’s time to write that book, launch that dream, or chase that adventure you’ve postponed.
WHAT’S YOUR NEXT SPARK?
Relax and see the beauty.
What’s your bold adventure this week?
What’s one bold thing you’ll do that makes you feel alive?
“Breathe. You’re still here. That’s enough reason to dance.”
YOUR CHALLENGE THIS WEEK:
Talk with people about death — theirs and yours.
What will happen to you upon your death?
With joy — Write your final will.
Make it a celebration of a life still in motion.
Because facing death entirely is how we learn to live wildly, deeply, joyfully—now.
Next week >>BLOG 348–How to Keep Your Taste Buds Happy
Final Thoughts
Your present moment is not the finish line—it’s your starting block.
The horizon holds more than you can yet imagine.
Because the best is always still ahead.
So juggle joy like it’s the air you breathe.
Chase sunsets as if they’re secret treasures waiting just for you.
Laugh so loudly that tomorrow leans in to listen.
Live as though you’ve only just begun—
BECAUSE YOU TRULY HAVE!
