Life is truly a roll of the dice!

Entry #2 re: The continuing saga of a family’s destruction caused by Greed.

Narrator: Francis (Frank) T. Sganga …

This sad story can be found in its entirety at:
Sunday, December 27, 2015

Until wife Babs died on October 4, 2003, the six members of the Sganga family were close-knit and happy.
One of our most memorable adventures was a two-week trip we made to visit my younger sister, Anne, in California.
I had just finished writing a 6th grade science book for the American Book Co. and used my royalty to buy a new
station wagon that had a rack on its roof that enabled us to carry along a tent, etc. so we could camp in State
and Federal parks each night.
After traveling some 500 miles on a hot midsummer day, in a car that had no air conditioning, we finally arrived
at a state park setting up our tent, and oldest son Paul and I headed for the showers. Half way through, daughter
Clare entered and exclaimed, “Dad! What are you doing in here?” It turned out it was a women’s rest room, and
as Paul and I scooted out, I found out what happened. As we walked toward the restrooms, there was a sign that
said “women,” but since we approached at an angle, all I could see was the “men” in the word “women.”

That was 50 years before Babs’ totally unexpected unnecessary death. A few months before her demise, a 2-inch
cancer was successfully removed from her colon. However, her surgeon said there were some cancer cells in her
lymph glands, and we followed his advice to play it safe via chemo treatments. In the oncology department at
New Smyrna Beach’s Fish Medical Center, she was put under the care of a Pakistan-trained doctor, named Abdul
Sorathia, who was mainly responsible for her premature death. (A detailed description of why is included in my
Kindle ebook: To Gen X, Baby Boomers and Millennials, with Love.)

I spent a full week by her bedside helplessly trying to soothe her as I watched her descend into a coma and die.
Suddenly losing a loving companion of 57 years brought me to the brink of total despair, and I really didn’t give
a damn whether I lived or died. Many times, during that awful week, as I looked at her withering away, I truly
wished that it was I in that bed instead of her.

Sitting at home, totally alone after her funeral, was soul-wrenching. I was 82. I kept asking myself, “What the hell
do I do now?” After a few months of listless living, while making an entry into my website that gave me some modicum
of relief from my distress, a life preserver was thrown to me in the form of a phone call. It was a life-changer that
subsequently brought about unbelievable changes in my life.

To be continued….