The Truth, the Whole Truth, and nothing but the Truth

The Truth, the Whole Truth and Nothing but the Truth
This continuing story will be posted on Facebook and my blog at

I tell it hoping it will help others gain some of the wisdom I have gained
as I struggled to make my life as meaningful as possible.

Truth sits upon the lips
of dying men.
Matthew Arnold

Saturday, December 26, 2015

Call me Frank. Today, at the local library, I experienced a dizzy spell. My sight became impaired and to play it safe, I told my wife May about about it and gave her the key to the car for the drive back home We considered going to the E. R., but I decided to wait it out. That was two hours ago, and I’ve been back to normal for the past hour. I checked WEBMD, and predictably, there numerous possible causes, including low blood pressure, which I have had most of my adult life.

Of course, as I approach 95 on April 29, 2016, I am acutely aware of my vulnerability to being harvested by the Grim Reaper. who sits on one shoulder while the Mortician sits on the other one. Truly, my only concern about dying is that wife May would have a very difficult time taking care of our two-story home, large yards, and the rental unit we are renovating for sale next April.

I am about to tell you a very sad story about what has happened to me and my family after my first wife, Babs, of 57 years, was killed by a 2nd chemo treatment at the local hospital in 2003, that on the face of it, seems tragic, but ended up with my being “born again.”

Babs and I had four children, two boys and two girls that currently range in age from 50 to 68. As things stand now, I have legally disinherited all of them to keep them from having any claims to my assets, which I have willed to May, my loving wife of six years This Christmas (yesterday) my four adult children completely ignored my existence, as they did on my last birthday and Fathers Day. I have two small grandchildren and three great grandchildren I have never seen, nor do I know their names.

The situation seems sad, and would probably be tragic if I were a widower who chose to live alone after Babs died, grieving myself to death, as often happens upon the death of one old spouse. Not long ago I read that when it happened to one couple, the other one died just days later.

I’m a different breed of cat with a common sense perspective. Babs died 12 years ago, and although I grieved and cried a lot afterwards, I came to realize the wisdom of this quotation:

Excess of grief for the dead is madness
for it is an injury to the living,
and the dead know it not.

The song, Don’t Cry for Me, Argentina, just popped into my head as I pondered what to say next.
Well, don’t cry for me either. I’ve never been happier. The paths I intuitively chose to take that satisfied the demands of my Soul have led to a peaceful state of mind that I consider to be equivalent to Nirvana. You see, the reason is that “I’ve got a life!” And, the greatest contributor to that, is my wife, May. After we married, she inspired me to write most of the 11 books now being sold at Amazon’s Kindle Store that bear my formal name Francis T. Sganga. But, best of all, she is providing me with the kind of priceless companionship that a man my age is so lucky to have.

If the Guinness Book of Records had a category titled The Most Ungrateful Children in the World, my four kids would be at the top of the list. As this story unfolds, you will find out why. In my next entry I will begin this woeful tale with Babs’ totally unexpected, unnecessary death
that was the most traumatic experience in my life. We humans are loathe to believe the reality of Death. As Morrie says in the book Tuesdays with Morrie:

Everyone knows they are going to die,
but nobody believes it.

To be continued….