Andy’s parents had a copy of The Cheerful Cherub, and I was taken by its whimsy when we used to visit them.


I thought of that yesterday when someone asked how I was doing in assisted living, was I counting the days until I could go home? No, I’m not. It won’t be until September 3 at the earliest, and even though the chances are good, there are no guarantees my hip will be healed enough even then. So I thought of
Life itself can’t give me joy
Unless I really will it.
Life just gives me time and space–
It’s up to me to fill it.
——The Cheerful Cherub
And of a woman I worked with in a factory during college summer vacations. It was hot, noisy work and I was counting the days until the weekend, when my boyfriend was coming down and we had some fun things planned. She yelled at me,
Don’t wish your life away!
Working in a factory was her permanent job, and she wasn’t complaining. She wasn’t wishing for something better, she was a happy, upbeat woman making the most of the life she had. Thanks, Helen. I heard you.
August 18, 2024