Pity Parties are Not Allowed...Allowing a Party Pity? Well That's Just Human Kindness.

In my little corner of the world it has been somewhat of a black Tuesday. My husband's entire office got let go and we just acquired a new mortgage. Sweet. Also one of our authors, that we dearly cared for, passed away today from complications with cancer. And Christmas is looking more bleak than it ever has.

As I was researching unemployment rates, I stumbled across this absolutely horrific book on CNN about how the world is coming to an end, and how the United States has been prophesied to fall and then we will find ourselves in the final world war, and we will all die.

Not exactly the book I want to be reading right now, thanks.

I don't buy into fear breeding. I may be financially fearful at the moment, but I am also a believer in hope and grace and success, and even the American Dream. Which has lost it's glow over the last year for most of us- but things will get better I know it.

The most beautiful thing about loss is the people that clamor around you wanting to help. Every single person that I have trusted with this news (because let's face it, it's not the most glamorous or easy thing to tell people) have rallied around me, offered me contact numbers, or even financial help and said they would keep their eyes and ears open. It's so moving, and I feel so grateful for those people so willing to help me...no strings attached.

I know my husband will find something else to do, and I know we will be just fine. He is one of those people who has sunshine shining out of his...well you know.

He was prom king and the class president, while I was the girl cleaning out bagel from my braces and reading Pride and Prejudice. He graduated at the top of his class, while I've dropped out of community college twice. Even his own sister calls him the golden boy, so I am not worried about him at all. Besides his pride being a little bruised, he will survive.

Getting hit by a Mack Truck would be much worse than what I am going through right now, even though the expression fits the condition of my heart, I am still alive and well.

So in remembrance of Frank Durham, our author of Cain's Version, embrace life.

You only get just the one. So make it count- even if you've got a lot of things counting against you, put on your seat belt, grab an umbrella and let the balloons go- besides you can pick up an entire pack at the grocery store for a buck.