In our EndNotes column today, we answered a question about why people tell cancer horror stories to people going through cancer treatment. Or why they react in weird ways to cancer news. For instance, when my co-author, Catherine Johnston, confided in a colleague that she was taking several weeks off for cancer treatment, the woman replied, “I have news, too. I’m getting a new job!”

Cathy stood up and left the room.

The column is a good reminder (to me!) to listen better to all stories, especially those involving suffering. It seems like it's helpful to share a similar story (it conveys you know what they are feeling, etc.) but people about 99 percent of the time just want their story listened to.

It happened again this morning. I was driving in the right hand lane on North Monroe. A car in the left hand lane had stopped for a pedestrian I couldn't see (not in a crosswalk). The pedestrian had started across in front of the car. If I had not slowed down, alert to the thought that something like this was going on, I would have plowed right into the guy walking, because I couldn't see him as he started his venture across.

I have witnessed at least five near misses in this mode. A driver in the left lane thinks he/she is being courteous by stopping for a pedestrian, but people in the right lane don't know what's going on so they speed along, oblivious.

Be kind to pedestrians, yes, and always those in crosswalks. But if you are letting them cross the street, and there's a blind spot for other drivers, pass on the gesture. You could save a life.

Found this in one of the emails mentioned in the post below. Pretty good. I think:

The tears happen: Endure, grieve, and move on. The only person who is with us our entire life is ourselves. LIVE while you are alive.

  

I've been on vacation for nearly two weeks and returned today. In my mailbox at work? A letter from a prisoner (they can't email) and a brochure from Poynter, a journalism institute, and my paycheck stub.

Three items.

My email? About 700 emails and counting. I've been at the newspaper 27 years and remember in those early years, stacking up my snail mail in two piles and taking the entire week to finish off the pile, working on it off and on.

Now, 700 emails sounds like a lot. Half will be stuff I can delete right away, so we're talking about an hour or two of  work on emails this morning.

I still love snail mail. But I must say, this is easier for re-entry to work after two weeks away. 

I am “of a generation” that remembers the two holidays for two presidents - before the merge. In my childhood, it did not matter where the holidays landed – mid-week or not, we remembered the men for whom the holiday was set.  

You know, before it was a consumer-focused day: “three-day sales” at local malls.  Such an odd way to honor political turning points in our American heritage.

Take time today to ask someone under 30-years-old what this holiday celebrates – other than a day away from school or the office.

Whitney Houston was celebrated and honored and remembered…for hours… as her family and friends memorialized her life.

The service was attended by 300 mourners, including Oprah Winfrey, Tyler Perry, Alicia Keys, Mariah Carey, Mary J. Blige, Forest Whitaker, Jennifer Hudson, Diane Sawyer and Houston's cousin, Dionne Warwick.

While many people have discussed Houston’s talent, her demons, her appearance, her marriage, her rise and fall and hope to rise again, one dimension of her life everyone seems to agree on: her unwavering faith in a God who loved her and cared for her.

Perhaps, now it is Whitney who listens to her Creator’s words: “I will always love you…”

(S-R archives photo)

The Arizona statehouse is contemplating this according to the Arizona Republic: “House Bill 2793, proposed by Rep. Katie Hobbs, D-Phoenix, would require advertisers who alter or enhance a photo to put a disclaimer on that ad alerting customers that ” 'Postproduction techniques were made to alter the appearance in this advertisement. When using this product, similar results may not be achieved.'” We just returned from sunny Phoenix where, around the pool, we saw all sorts of bodies. Young, old, wrinkled, botoxed, natural. It's the reality of the human body as it ages. Would you like to see it reflected in your advertising?

Amanda Knox has a book deal - and hopefully a chance to pull her loving parents out of the debt they plunged into when they lived through her four years of incarceration. The legal fees, the travel expenses, the cost of supporting themselves while seeking all means possible to save their daughter, cost Amanda’s family $$$.

But the end of this nightmare offers redemption. The money will help a family regain its financial footing, but more importantly for Amanda, the chance to write her story, to write through the terror, confusion, manipulation, long days- months- years, the process of safely stepping back in time to convert experiences and emotions to words, will bring an emotional healing and wholeness that no other therapy could possibly provide.

Amanda is a writer, and as all writers know: writing can save your life. Perhaps, that is exactly what Amanda already did.

(S-R archives photo)

Mary Matsuda Gruenwald was 17-years-old when she was taken with her family to her first assembly center. Like many Americans of Japanese ancestry, she spent time in an internment camp during World War II. Once freed, she eventually joined the cadet nurse corps. She wrote a book about her experience. 

While the internment experience left her feeling demeaned and like a non-person, it was her mother’s words that sustained and inspired Gruenwald. They are inspirational words for anyone experiencing challenges.     

“What kind of memories do you want to have of how we conducted ourselves with dignity and courage during this time of trial?”

(S-R archives photo)

The new washing machine arrived today. I really was sad when the 26-year-old Maytag was hauled away. That old machine had three buttons – for water temperature – and three options for washing cycles. It was a “top loader” and on the shelf above I stored the giant jug of detergent with the dispenser aimed right at the machine. Reach up, push the button and the liquid flowed right in. It was a forgiving washer: if I omitted a towel, I could open the lid and throw in the towel (so to speak). And quiet, except when I fed it too much and it waddled around the floor, unbalanced.  

The new machine has 15 buttons and an equal amount of cycles to choose from. It locks when it starts. Really, the door locks. I know this is true because the lock button says so. No throwing in the towel with this appliance. And it talks to me in sci-fi language of beeps and beep-beeps. Perhaps it is speaking a form of electronic Morse code. Really irritating. I do not like machines that talk, only when they are expected to - like the television and the radio and the CD player. Otherwise, mute is the preferred setting.

 I want to be like my friend, Mary, who died at 91. Mary could always tell me about the latest gadget or trend or celebrity. She told me the secret to a long life was having a reason to get up in the morning and to be curious about life, not afraid to change. I can hear her applauding the new washing machine, reminding me of the tricks it will do to save time, energy, and my sanity.

 Sometimes it is the people in our past who launch us into the future.

(S-R archives photo)

Good question. Lots of answers.  

Sometimes it is best to imagine the answer: Saint Valentine was the perfect, thoughtful lover or even a magical cupid who causes one’s object of affection to return that passion.

However, Valentine was most likely someone we are less likely to identity with: Roman martyr or temple priest?

Whomever he was and whatever the origin of our celebration, Valentine’s Day remains an opportunity to pause and show our affection for those whom we call friend, family, or lover.

(S-R archives photo)

Our Boomer generation has been busy about seeking new adventures as we age.  

Meet Kathleen Flenniken, 51, a former  Hanford engineer, turned poet. Washington state’s poet laureate, 2012-2014, that is.

 Flenniken earned engineering degrees from WSU in 1983 and from the University of Washington. She earned a master's degree in fine arts from Pacific Lutheran University.

 She took a poetry class in 1993 as a way to get out of her house in the evening, to challenge herself.

 Her first book of poetry titled “Famous” won the Prairie Schooner Book Prize. Her second book of poetry – “Plume” – will be released later this month.

 Flenniken’s new vocation reminds us to take chances, explore our interests and not limit our talents.

 What interest would you love to explore, what secret talent or passion do you long to nurture?

(S-R archives photo)

When the news of Whitney Houston's death hit Saturday, CNN showed a photo of her taken years ago with Liza Minnelli, Elizabeth Taylor and Michael Jackson. All people blessed with great talent. All people who used the talent well for many years.

But all four fought battles with addiction. Only Minnelli remains alive.

If you were given a great talent — in acting, singing, dancing, fine art, writing — would you accept it, knowing that the addiction demon comes with it? Post-mortem questions today.

(Spokesman-Review archives photo)

My Wise Words interview today is with Mary Fairhurst, a Washington state Supreme Court justice, who talked so openly about living with cancer that could kill her sooner rather than later.

She's realistic that she might have less than a year to live while at the same time, she's optimistic that she'll beat this cancer.

Thank you, Mary, for being so open in our interview. Your words will help others today and in the future.

(About the photo: For Mary's 54th birthday last summer, 700 of her friends and family gathered at a Mariners game, where she threw out the pitch, helped by her “crush” — the Mariner Moose. Photo courtesy of Mary Fairhurst)

 Her voice was sultry and strong; her smile, beautiful. Her life – a bit tumultuous.

Whitney Houston died on the fourth floor of the Beverly Hilton Hotel, on the eve of the Grammy Awards, which she was to attend.

Houston was at the prime of her career from the mid-1980s to the late 1990s. She had a graceful presence on screen. Her films included The Bodyguard and Waiting to Exhale.

Her 2009 album “I Look to You” was a comeback attempt and debuted on the top of the charts; the album would eventually go platinum.

Houston leaves behind a daughter – and many grieving family members and friends.

(S-R archives photo)

Two sweet, innocent children will be buried today. Their father murdered them.  

The story has been in all media sources over the last week. The blame, the questions, the speculation are the subject of every lead story in the local news.  

I have questions far beyond the tragedy. Questions I ask every time I read a story like this one, every time I listen to a woman speak in fear about her husband or boyfriend and what she learns about their evil actions toward children: when, when, when, will this country seek to protect the rights of children first – before the rights of grown-ups? We extend our freedoms to those who violate our laws; our laws extend respect and exception to those who lack respect or even simple decency.  

These children needed advocates; they needed the law to protect them from that DSHS goal that has killed other children: reunification of the family. Where there is pornography, where there is a missing mom with evidence that points to dad as the person responsible – there is no family.

(S-R archives photo)

We were traveling out of the area yesterday and on a busy street with a lot of retirement communities that open onto the busy street. I saw the elderly woman dart out in traffic behind the wheel of her mid-size car. She flew across three lanes of traffic, including ours, narrowly missing several cars. I laid on the horn and she switched lanes quickly and crashed into the back of an SUV idling at a red light. Luckily for all, she was going slowly. When she crossed my lane, I was close enough to see her eyes. She looked dazed, clueless to the three or four accidents she had almost caused. When we left the scene, she was moving her car to a side street, slowly, following the man in the SUV. Had the woman had a stroke? Or high on prescription drugs? Or a woman whose license should have been pulled years ago? These were the questions that haunted us after this near miss.

(S-R archives photo)

The hangout for many Gonzaga alums was called The Bulldog. We drank beer, bantered our various philosophical viewpoints and made out in the booths (Well, I didn’t, but I witnessed those whose passion increased as they sipped the suds.)

The iconic landmark is in search of a new name.  What should it be?

Enter the contest:  People can submit names by using the website Namesthisbar.com.  If you have a Smart phone, stop by the formerly-known-as Bulldog and grab the QR (quick response) barcode at the pub and use it to suggest a name.

In years to come, we will hear stories from the new alums about their adventures at ???

(S-R archives photo)

Our relationship lasted almost 26 years. Reliable, always willing, a tacit understanding of our roles.  We were together over all the holidays, birthdays and sometimes the relationship required lots of attention or relied on the simple rhythm of daily life.

Suddenly, the relationship is over. I had no illusions: “nothing gold stays forever,” says Robert Frost.  And so, tomorrow I will have to say good-bye.  After 26 years, my performed-perfectly Maytag washing machine…has died.

(S-R archives photo)