Once upon a time there lived a couple in love. Not a penny to their names there was, but that would not stand in their way. They were both highly successful and ahead of their time in their respective fields of choice. He was handsome, warm, joyful, ambitious and talented. She was gorgeous, passionate, smart and on her way up and out. They had four beautiful children and The American Dream was theirs for the taking. They began migrating west in a continual effort to climb yet another step up.
Somewhere along the way the dream shattered. The man and the woman parted ways. What was once happiness and abundance was replaced by longing and sickness, A fairy tale beginning, yes, but no happily ever after.
I lost my father to severe arteriosclerotic heart disease at the young age of 54 my mother to Parkinson’s.
Mom
Mom loved the finer things in life. Although she was never artistic per se, she was mesmerized by all things of beauty whether they be of art, music, the written word, nature or the magic found from combining inanimate objects to paint a portrait of her home. Mom escaped the poverty of her youth by distancing herself as far as possible from the place and people of her youth moving from New York City to the Pacific North West.
Everywhere she went she sought to replace poverty, ugliness and ignorance with comfort, beauty and education. She lived in places of beauty: Providence, Malibu, Vancouver and Bellingham. She reached these places ages before they became THE places to be. Mom was always a woman ahead of her time. She was never a housewife.
She chose to teach secondary high school English. For many years she was a lone star teaching with a master’s degree while most had only a bachelor’s degree. She was never a woman of many spoken words but those she chose to speak we're always worth your attention. The written word now that was a different story! My mother immersed herself in books: history, drama, politics, romance, … You name it and she read it! 
Mom was a positive woman. She always saw the best in people, always made the best of a bad situation. Mom became ill at a time when she should have been kicking up her heels and enjoying the freedom and the romance of her life. She never complained and always found excitement and passion in spite of her horrible, horrible health.
Her last years were an all too familiar story of rampant chronic illness and how it is taking over our health and our lives. I was blessed to grow up in a passionate home. Mom's passion was one of beauty and education. My path of passion has become one of health and happiness. I was presenting my vision to my local business networking group. I passionately told the story of my father's death at the age of 54 to chronic heart disease and of mom's long battle with Parkinson's and other ills. The next day, and I mean the very next day, she passed away. May our lives be different. May the legacy which we leave our children be different. May it be one of health, happiness and beauty. Rest in peace Mom, heaven knows that you deserve it!
Dad
It all comes down to polarity. The important thing in nature, Helene, is that both exist. Choosing one does not deny the other. The north pole is an absurd place to live. Most of us find some compromise between north and south — and east and west. But where one person chooses this place another person chooses another. Is Israel a better place to live than Bellingham (Washington)? A nonsense question. Each place has its own mixture of polarities. You can do things in one place that you can't in the other. This does not make one better or worse.
Likewise capitalism and communism, and all the other ism's. Think of them as machines. They do certain things well other things very poorly. You wouldn't use a fork lift to dig a hole in the ground. For any function there is an appropriate tool…
I have suffered much. Things have been stolen from me that I would have gladly given away. I have been deceived and betrayed. I used to say I was only afraid of two things — growing old and getting cynical. I also said that I couldn't do anything about getting old, but I could do something about getting cynical.
I have grown much wiser and am much more cautious in my dealings with people. But I would like to report that I have not yet become cynical. I am still asking the question,
Why is it that science makes progress and people don't?…
I have my patterns and you have yours. Some are beautiful and those are of God. Some can be arranged to ensure peace. Shalom, Helene. Say hello to your father.
With all of my love
