I must have filled the filter before I wandered away and then added another filter on my return. That was my bad, especially since I was getting low on coffee filters.
The next day, after a restless night, I wandered to the pot to get my morning coffee. I put creamer in my cup and started filling the cup—with hot water. I lifted the cover and instead of the double filled filters of the day before, I had no coffee at all.
“Double or Nothing” is something we often think of in gambling, but it can be true in life as well. Sometimes people take a big risk to reach a lofty goal, but if they fail, they have nothing.
After a marathon 16 days of recording and watching the Olympic Games, I saw a lot of double or nothing attempts. Some of those “games” looked more like death-defying gambles than competitive sports. People collapsed at the finish lines after depleting their bodies of their energy supply. I guess it worked out for the three who finished first because they accomplished a medal for their efforts, but what about all the others who gained nothing but the experience and wear and tear on the only body they have.
Of course, life is mostly a gamble anyway. Jim had double strikes against him. In Vietnam, he was exposed to Agent Orange and situations that left him in physical pain and emotionally disturbed. The combination left him with PTSD, a few short letters that meant the difference between a fulfilling life and a life of turmoil.
So if we consider Vietnam as one strike, the second strike was being unlucky enough to develop dementia at 49 years old. What are the odds that an intelligent man who had mad mechanical skills could develop a brain disorder that would wipe out nearly fifty years of learning?
Jim was fortunate to have a family that loved him and cared for him when he needed it. Life stole his memories from him, but memories of him did not end when he died. Jim doubled the love in our lives, and nothing can take that away from us.
Copyright © February 2022 by L.S. Fisher