Dunham Family and My Stroke Story!

20 years ago today, our Dad’s funeral was held. It does not seem possible that it was so long ago. Yesterday, I went to his grave to honor him. The brass plate on his “niche” is faded now, but the memories are still fresh. I remember the funeral like it was yesterday. It was packed, and so many old “Buttrey Food’s” colleagues were there. It was a testament for our dad who every liked. After my second stroke, when the nurses were rushing me to the MRI room, I remembered that dark hallway. It seemed like they would never get to me even though I know they were swiftly hurrying along. At that point, I felt that my Dad was saying to me, “You will be OK.”  Who knows if that was true or if it was a figment of my imagination? But, Dad helped me in those dark hours. Just the thought of my Dad helped me so much.  Thanks Dad. Dad was a great friend, a cool guy, smart, funny, and irreverent.  

“I read a book.” The fact that a read a book seems trivial until you realize that I haven’t read a book for two years because of my strokes. Reading was my hobby, and that fact that I could not read anything is demoralizing for me. It took me several months to complete the book. I often thought I would not do it. But, I had incentive because a long lost relative gave a book to me hoping it would give me incentive to read a certain book called “Wish You Well” by David Baldacci.  First published in 2001, the story starts with the Cardinal family moving from New York to California due to money problems, then shifts to the mountains of Virginia after a car accident leaves the father dead and the mother paralyzed. The time period is in the 1940s. It was incredibly difficult for me to read that book. I used to read so fast. Now, I do reading therapy, but I still get frustrated. To read at all, I need to have no distractions and I need to read very slowly. I have to read ever

One of our favorite movies is “It’s A Wonderful Life.” Every year, my wife and I watch it, and the story of a man who is so hopeless that he contemplates suicide until an angel shows him what the world would be been without him. Last night, when we were watching this holiday favorite, my wife said in a nut shell, “You have a wonderful life, and you have helped so many people. You should know that. The thread of your life has helped countless people. You are George Bailey.” Sometimes when I feel sad and lonely because of my strokes, iut is reasonable that I feel sad. In darker moments when I wonder what my future holds, I do harbor the notion that if I was never born, it would not matter at all. Of course, those moments are fleeting because I love so many people. I could not imagine not being part of my world and life.    I do try to help other people. I have tried to mentor people. I volunteer a lot because I think I make a difference. When people ask me why I care for so

It was a shock. It was a routine surgery on her knee and, in the middle of the night, a blood clot ended her life. I was not a close friend, but she was a vibrant person who knew everyone. Her laugh was infectious! I went to the funeral because I needed some closure. “Closure” in the sense that she is really gone.  A bright light is gone.  She was alive and now she is not. How does that happen? Why?  Another friend of mine had a stroke several years ago.  Now, she has been diagnosed with breast cancer.  Another Facebook friend just told her contacts that her brother had a stroke 3 months ago, and he had another one this week. I had an appointment this week with a therapist, and he told me that one of his other client's has a son who has colon cancer…terminal. The common denominator is they are young. Like me. In the 90’s my father died and I got divorced. I was despondent. I great friend sent a book to me:    “When Bad Things Happen to Good People” i