The Flow of Life

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April 12, 2024- During the course of the day, at least 64 people donated blood, in a small conference suite of Frontier Village, a Prescott shopping center, located 2.1 miles from the center of town. Each person potentially saved the life of a hospitalized individual, a victim of a fire, or of a car crash, or a beating. In the days when assaults on strangers seem to be increasing, sixty-four people chose to help someone they did not know. A few of them told me, the registrar of the Blood Drive, of how someone else had once helped a family member in need.

Across the country, my mother is alert, mildly talkative, still taking minimal nutrients, and pondering the flow of life. She is ninety-five years of age, has seen four children and ten grandchildren grow to adulthood. She is seeing nineteen great-grandchildren grow into solid human beings. Through it all,she has been a stellar example of how to face challenges, head-on. Her life is flowing towards the delta that is the gateway to the ocean of eternity. It has been, by all indications, a grand journey.

Here in Home Base I, increasing numbers of people are facing the reckoning that always comes with ignoring a simple rule of life: Other people matter, every bit as much as oneself does. The person in a crosswalk, the rider of a motorcycle, a bicycle or a skateboard, the person standing in line ahead of you are not objects to be conveniently shoved aside or targets to be struck by a vehicle. Red lights, stop signs and temporary barriers, or detours, are not nuisances to be ignored, out of a desire for convenience. People who hold an opinion that differs from one’s own are not monsters to be slain or idiots to be publicly humiliated. I know that every community faces a similar challenge, in a world that still is plagued by anonymity and self-absorption. That self-absorption, though, is always headed towards a dead end.

The flow of life will ever go, in the direction that the Universe intends, and while that sometimes seems to head in odd tangents, in the end, it will likewise find its way to the Most Great Ocean.

False Alarms and Needs Met

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December 6, 2022- Arriving on time, for a scheduled medical check-up, I found that my provider had left the particular practice. No notice had been sent by the practice, and I determined why, very quickly-they are operating with a skeleton crew, after a troublesome upheaval, a month or so ago. A veteran provider at a higher level, who has done good work for me, is still there. So, I trust them enough to have rescheduled for later this month, with another provider. It was a minor hiccup, in terms of my schedule. Breakfast at Pangaea Bakery, and being greeted by a lovely, effervescent counter person, who works hard for her customers, set the day on an even tone.

Most of the day was spent helping an equally diligent phlebotomy crew, at a Blood Drive in Prescott Valley. I was the “Blood Ambassador”, greeting donors as they walked in. The team lead, a whirling dervish of a woman, seemed to accomplish ten things in the time it took the rest of us to do one or two tasks. I learned, quickly, to just sit back and let her give staccato instructions, then proceed as directed. It was likely the first and last time I will be invited to join that particular team, but there were no mistakes and three dozen people were successfully processed.

This being the 42nd Anniversary of meeting Penny, I went to dinner. Since LeffT’s Steak House was not too far from the Blood Drive site, I stopped in for an early repast. LeffT’s is a relaxed, down-home establishment. So, when a woman came up and asked me how I liked the open-faced meatloaf sandwich I had ordered, it was no trouble to recommend the dish, wholeheartedly. She so ordered, and agreed with my positive assessment. I had a nice chat with her and her husband, on the way out.

It’s always a nice touch to make friends, from the beginning to the end of a well-spent day. Even those who seem to be begrudging can be brought into one’s corner, with patience and diligence.