The Quality of Life It is very hard to accept an early death. When friends die who are seventy, eighty, or ninety years old, we may be in deep grief and miss them very much, but we are grateful that they had long lives. But when a teenager, a young adult, or a person at the height of his or her career dies, we feel a protest rising from our hearts: "Why? Why so soon? Why so young? It is unfair." But far more important than our quantity of years is the quality of our lives. Jesus died young. St. Francis died young. St. Thérèse of Lisieux died young, Martin Luther King, Jr., died young. We do not know how long we will live, but this not knowing calls us to live every day, every week, every year of our lives to its fullest potential.
I’m a 56-year-old Information Systems Manager at a major Teaching Hospital. In my other life, I'm a community activist, union officer, creative writer, Episcopal lay minister and hospital chaplain. I grew up in Glastonbury Connecticut, living there until 1986. Since then I've lived in Chicago, Boston and now California.
I live in Tahoe Park, a working-class neighborhood of Sacramento in a converted Catholic Rectory with my two cats, Tiger and Muffin. For the first time in years, I am mowing the lawn, and fixing what goes wrong in an 80+year old building. I once more enjoy trips to Home Depot, and after years of living in a college town which rolls up the sidewalks at night, I enjoy being back in the hustle and bustle of a city neighborhood.
In my free time, I work on restoring (and camping in) a classic VW Camper Van, bicycling writing, reading, making or listening to music.
I'm a 3-time survivor on Non-Hodgkins Lymphoma (also surviving a life-threatening treatment-related infection in 2005), and have been healthy since a Bone Marrow Transplant in 2001. I’m a peer counselor for cancer and BMT patients.