It would be easy to write about how I weed the neighbor’s garden because she is dying of cancer, or, give The Wise Heart by Kornfield to a client who just graduated with her Master’s degree. I’d rather share the surprise of finding twelve dozen red roses sitting at the foot of my rocking chair in my office, being my door is always open. (The waiting room door is locked at night.) From Gaylee, as I call her, my newest closest friend, being a psychotherapist like myself. No, we are not partners or lovers; I am as straight as the red pine rising 100 feet to the Sun. Yet, I feel as loved as she supremely comforts me in my loss. She had heard that my third ex-husband, Alain, had died suddenly of a heart attack on leap year day 2012, and being that “Love is eternal…its character may change but not its essence,” as Van Gogh said, I wept when I heard from his first wife, that I was not welcome at Alain’s memorial service. Actually, I sobbed like a baby wanting its mother. I felt unappreciated, and Gaylee heard my tears, reiterating what a gift I am…how my certainty about how to love is so helpful to others. I needed to hear that, as I have borne many rejections, yet continue to love those who do so. I am embarrassed still to own that kind of kidness. And, kindness:) So, when I stopped at Wendy’s on my return trip home from visiting my second daughter’s family last week, I stood behind a senior citizen couple as they ordered, then was directed to the cashier next to them whereupon I placed my order of unpeeled french fries with sea salt. After I handed over my money, the gray-haired woman next to me said, “You can ask for the senior discount you know.” No, I didn’t know, and turned to the cashier to ask for it to which she replied that I didn’t look like a senior, and left to retrieve my 60 cents from the manager. When the pudgy teenager gave me my additional change, she added, “You don’t look like a senior citizen, you look like a model, better than I look.” Surprised, all I could say was, “Well, thank you and you can still work on it.” (Due to my frequent tears being connected to my heart’s door into my childhood feelings, and past lives pain, I have been able to maintain my ideal weight, with a waist to show for it. Also, I am lucky enough to have inherited mom’s lack of gray hair which she did not have even at the age of 80.) When I reached my Jeep Liberty with food in hand, I thought to myself, “How did the lady next to me know that I was a senior, and the teenage cashier did not?”