If you are the last of your family, as all the other significant members have passed on, an empty hole, hard, if not impossible, to fill, seems to characterize your emotional state. At 74, and an only child, losing my parents has meant that that mysterious connectedness which has been with me all my life is now in the past. You are now quite alone. Although you likely have created other significant alliances that have helped you get through life, those most intimate and emotionally significant to you are now gone.

Those who have enjoyed and celebrated having siblings or geographically close relatives of one ilk or another have the memorable joy of some important unions. Some find the fraternity of long time friends to be helpful in cementing significant relationships. There is, for most of us, the need to

There aren’t words enough to reveal the feelings that come upon the death of a dear, sainted Mother. There aren’t emotions, poured out in tears and agony over the loss of the one who gave you life. There aren’t sentiments eloquent enough to describe the lonely hurt that overtakes you, the sudden flood of tears, the amazing emptiness that overtakes you.

But as the popular song suggests neither is there any “mountain high enough, no valley low enough to keep me from you.”

In spite of the alienation caused by the suddenness of death, the deep and abiding loneliness, the sudden and abrupt separation, one must find ways to keep the loving memory going.

In the midst of the pain of grief and loss, senior citizens grope around for help and relief. A suggestion for a new app. When life’s inevitable and painful experiences strike, would it not be well to have an application that applies the balm needed to cure the hurt and dissolve the pain?

With so many injuries that seem ready to strike us, when we are already in the midst of pain and hurt, wouldn’t it be useful to have a ready means for relief? Of course, if you believe the ads, it is already there is one form, salve, ointment, precious oil or another. And, we discover most of them don’t work.

Oh, how great it would be to be allowed do overs. How marvelous it would be if we could just put the back space on and redo the last thing we said or did, the one thing we wish we had never suggested or tried. How pleasant it would be for all our report cards in life, for those to be pitched and only the remarkable acts, the wild successes, the incredibly rewarding behaviors offered a chance to do it again.

If only do overs were allowed. But somehow in the great scheme of things that is not allowed or offered, not even a consideration, not a chance.

And so we are stuck with having to work out our mistakes, erase, if only we can, those behaviors

For Caregivers, and Care Receivers who have chosen to die at home, the last hours can be a contradictory combination of relief and sadness. There is much to do. It begins to feel like preparing for a huge meeting in which greater details demand attention. It is also a test of one’s handling the growing fatigue that comes with sadness, depression and grief.

All of the time that has gone into expecting this hour, now collides in a series of making plans, settling all the necessary affairs, preparing one’s own spirit and disposition for what is soon to come.

To be sure there are some attractions and residual appeal left to visiting Facebook. But, and that’s no small but, there is much about it that is addictive and just downright tiring. I suppose for some, younger and generated by fascination, that is the hallmark of much of what comes through on the largest blog there is, it maintains its appeal. For others, of us who have “been there, done that” Facebook represents a fad of sorts that holds attention by its various attention getting methods. No longer so, for others of us.

Increasingly, at least in conversations, I am discovering how many are dropping out and leaving the mystique, if that is what it is, of Facebook behind. There is enough “sameness” about it that leads to, well, nowhere, that many are beginning, in fact, to search elsewhere for stimulation

How many, how frequently, how numerous, how much, how often are the times when seniors deal with officials, professionals, clerks, representatives, assistants are we thrown into a state of total frustration and complete dissatisfaction?

How many calls have been made when attempting to identify an official with appropriate authority to identify some means for addressing an issue related to some business transaction, purchase, agreement or other arrangement caught up in a business deal in which the process went south, was clearly outside the boundaries of mutual understanding and contradictory to any expected outcome?

So, what are the options? The first one is to find ways to create harmony in your life as you arise and go about your day. Harmony is having a positive and pleasant disposition about yourself and what lies ahead. Heading off the negatives and down sides of one’s disposition requires keeping your heart happy, your head clear, your body energized, your spirit motivated by good thoughts and positive motives.

It is difficult for fatigue to seize the day when your other motivators are at work keeping the negative influences from invading you. Of course, if you are attacked by physical ailments, psychological depression, personal issues that affect your attitude, then the job gets harder. It is no small task to take on the various emotional interferences that would work their will and wiles on

How many times of late have we heard the cry, “We never expected ‘this’ to happen in our town!” “This” of course refers to the latest tragedy, turmoil, death, disaster, or crisis having taken place in one’s own community.

We perceive our own environments as peaceful, tranquil, serene and predictable. More and more they are not. The epidemic growing and spreading across the American landscape seems to be out of proportion. The frightening proportion of painful experiences touching growing numbers of families and individuals seems out of hand.

Bad seems literally to have turned to worse. Children are not exempt. Law officers are even not

Several temptations are lately looming up offering beguiling opportunities for seniors, and particularly for me. Back in my early teens I owned a 1948 Willys Jeepster. It was yellow, a convertible, stick shift, with all the bells and whistles that made it an enviable and enjoyable toy. For some reason, now forgotten, I surrendered it and have regretted its loss ever since.

I am now in search of its replacement, an enjoyable undertaking that has sent me looking all over the country to try to find an identical replica. They are out there and the temptation runs stronger on some days than others.