As MS (multiple Sclerosis) is doing such a fine job of devastating my mortal body, I thought it prudent to begin writing my life story. At least, to recall some parts of it that have had significant impacts on me becoming who I think I am. If I wait for someone else to write it ? I won't be around read it. If I delay any longer to begin, I may not be able to remember my life ? at all.
I suppose that it's normal to want people to say nice things about you, after you're gone. Sometimes, you can make a deal with them to say nice things about you ? if you will just go. Since I don't have very much to cut a deal with, I figure ? if I want some nice things said ? I'd better say them myself.
I'm reminded what I once said about a dog that I had. " He never bit anybody?" I don't remember ever biting anyone, either. Another dog, I adopted, kissed everyone. Although I tried to do that, too, I was never as well received as he was.
Cats don't try to kiss you. They spend all of their time licking themselves. A lot of people that I've met do that. While many things are yet within their power to accomplish, they give up.
I've learned, there is nothing shameful about trying and failing. It was only a shame when I failed to try. We all get to have our share of failures. No one else gets to have them all. If you've never failed, you have probably never tried to do the impossible, like be a good marriage partner, or eat soup with a fork. I get better at being married each time I try it.
In this story, I don't think I'll change the names. No one is so innocent that they need protecting.
* * *
We moved to Izee early Saturday, to the house we had never seen the inside of. Mom was following in the car, Dad commandeering a borrowed pickup with all of our earthly possessions. Robert came with us to Izee, this time. Since Mom would be explaining to him "The boardinghouse rules" for high school away from home," I rode with Dad thinking it was funny that my brother got to eat more dirt than I did, as they followed us over the miles of unpaved road. Like a filthy phantom from planet dust, Robert kept emerging from the 52 Ford, recovering anything that blew off our loosely tied down load. He looked even scarier when it started to rain.
[Continue on in Chapter Two if you still wish to read more.]
Russ Miles is the author of the novel, For Sale By Owners:FSBO.
Seasoned Real Estate NAR? Broker Disabled by Multiple Sclerosis,
FOR SALE BY OWNERS:FSBO ISBN 0-595-28703-4,in trade paperback,
is available by phone or Internet:1-800-Authors to order direct!
Very HOT?LINK Adobe e-book & hard cover editions also available
FSBO at Amazon.com at Barnes and Noble and other fine booksellers.
Comments: MilesRuss@Gmail.com. Personal referrals to his publisher