I was born into the realm of the Wild West when Elvis was king, at the height of social freedoms which were slipping steadily down into the mists of abandon. Unlimited alcohol and tobacco consumption were a household norm for many families, with few or no suspicions about their ill effects — gross and subtle.
My first eight years took me along an often bumpy road, with the scary shadows of evermore chaos lurking just around the next bend. But there was also love. I grew up with some delightfully humorous and caring souls. My best memories still shine from those joyous occasions when we, once a year, exchanged presents, had fun together, and temporarily forgot all our fears and worries: Christmas Days!
Just before my eighth Christmas in 1965, my Dad returned home, sober, after a four year absence. From that time on, everything seemed to get more prosperous and abundant — including the number of siblings. Within another three years we would be eight brothers and sisters celebrating at home together!
I was then blessed to live through a period of wealth and wellbeing that most children in the world will never know. Looking back at my long climb as a human being, I recognize how very lucky I’ve been this time around.
May the liberating Innocence, that we call Luck, fill the hearts of good people, everywhere.
Wishing you and yours Love and Light at this special time,
your friend in this abundant moment,
(We were, oldest to youngest: Dad, Mom, Darlene, Cheryl, Rick, Ed, Glenn, David, Allan and Don. Christmases were also celebrated at Nana and Grandpa’s place, Mom’s Finnish parents. Almost half-a-century later we would be three more, Tia, Karen and Cliff, senior siblings divided from us by Dad’s first divorce.)