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I lost my job a couple of years ago. I was making a solid six figure income. We were very comfortable. We had what we would call luxuries. We could go to the movies whenever we wanted to. We went out to dinner nearly every night. We had services to clean our house, do our dry cleaning and tend to the yard. We were financially happy. I went from that comfortable six figure income to a shallow five figure income. The five figure income is steady, honest and persistent, it just isn't six figures. We sold extras, we dropped services, we quit doing the special things and we re-budgeted our life to fit into about one third of what we were used to earning. Financially, we are a shadow of what we once were.

My dream home, which I never achieved until late into my forties, has been foreclosed upon. I have about six months left to live in this place I have called home for the last ten years. In this house, that I built with my own two hands. In this home, my wife and I fashioned and formed, around our specific desires, wants and needs. We will need to, somehow, find another house to live in, one that we can eventually call a home. We are very confused. I have six months left to call my home, home.

My dog of 15 years has been diagnosed with cancer. She has less than six months to live. Fifteen years ago, my wife and I went searching for a black, short haired lab and the minute we saw this white, long haired mix, we fell in love. She was a roly-poly bundle of dog love. We took her home, trained her, house broke her, rose our grand children with her and loved her back as much as we could. We could never love her as much as she loved us but we tried. Today I was told she has a month to six months to live. She has cancer, bone cancer.

But, this is my life and I love it. I don't have to work at loving it, it just happens. I ignore the desperation our weakened economy forces upon us. I shrug at the pain the loss of my home brings to me. I accept the fact that even the strongest of family pets will sometime leave us. These are regular interruptions to an otherwise very enjoyable life.

As a child I lived a life I would never want any of my children or grand children to have to endure; but I did. When I was living it I had no idea how miserable I was. Only now, when I can look back, can I imagine how miserable I must have been. I may be blessed with the ability to see through the immediate and envision that which is not yet here. I can sense the silver lining on every grey cloud.

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