It's hard to explain. Most days I skate across my bumpy terrain with joyful ease. I often pinch myself for the beautiful life I have. My heart yodels a happy tune that echoes across and through the seconds and minutes and hours and years of my life. And then I have inexplicable moments like I had this afternoon. It might be a harmless TV commercial - you know, the type of hard-selling with a soft message (or is it soft-selling with a hard message) that leaves most of us feeling too fat, too bald, too hairy, too flaccid, too grumpy, too addicted, too everything. Something stupid will catch my attention and turn my life upside down. Stupid. Stupid. Stupid. It's just plain old stupid that I fall for this Madison Avenue baloney.

Today I think it was one of the flaccid commercials that caught my attention with all its emphasis on renewal and promise and future dreams yet to be dreamt and fulfilled. The coy smiles, the dopey goo-goo eyes, the flirtatious tilt of heads, the winks. Disclaimer: This is not what makes me lonely. It's the conceptual that's ignited in me when I see these ads. I suddenly realize that life has few symbolic winks left for me. My walk on the wild side is to flirt with caffeine in the morning. I know all this sounds silly, but this is what happens and what buckles me into a dismal luge of despair.

I don't want the winks. I don't want romantic cruises with caressing Caribbean breezes. I don't want the dopey looks. What I want, I can't have. I want someone I met many years ago. Someone I fell in love with and we lived the good, the bad and the ugly... and survived to laugh about it all. I want to have that person who knows me better than I know myself because of the 40-year telescopic and microscopic view they've had. I want to be a caregiver and a caretaker - there is a difference, isn't there? I want what I can't have. Pooh!

Another disclaimer: For all my friends that have what I can't have, I never covet. Their dreams aren't mine. It's that simple as well as the fact that I find it easy to be happy for others.

So, after I claw myself out of the silly abyss that's been triggered by a silly TV commercial or whatever, I take inventory. When I take inventory, it's magical.

I have the three most amazing children ever and they have given me the most amazing grandchildren ever. In about 40 days I'll be with my three children and my parents as we gather for my youngest's graduation from W&L Law. I swear to you, I can already hear the laughter being unleashed. My kids are simply the best ever.

And there you have it. Sometimes the silliest things in life mimic grandeur, but they're all smoke and mirrors, those dumb commercials are. I prefer living in real time, but not always smart enough to know it.

BTW, I got an email from my psychologist today. He'd missed me on Wednesday and then noticed that I'm not scheduled again until 4/10 and he was wondering if everything is okay. This guy's no fool - he knows when he's got a fabulous wingnut on the books.

As always, thanks for listening.