Well, I said I'd be back to say more about Pete, and here I am.  Quite frankly, I'm still dealing with the loss.  Even though we never met face-to-face, he was truly a wonder to me--somewhat of a "guardian angel", if you will.

Picture this--you're a 40 year old female, single, and you've been independent since you were 18.  You've got your own business,  your own home, a relationship that you think is forever, a pretty nice car, and you feel you're on the right path. And for a while, all is going well--the American Dream, and all that.  Suddenly, an illness comes out of nowhere.  Hey, it happens.  You lose almost everything--the business, the relationship, material possessions, your pride, your confidence, and your health.  You're very sick, you can't work, and your friends don't know how to deal with your illness--slowly, they become distant, because they simply don't know what to do. Luckily, your family is close, so you do have some support, but they can only do so much.  You become so lonely and depressed that your computer is your new best friend.  And so, in an attempt to remain connected to the world, you try this blogging thing on a lark.

Miraculously, you meet someone in your computer wanderings that doesn't want anything more than to be your friend, to support you, and to help you.  As most of you know, at least those of you who have been around the block at least once, this kind of thing just does not happen.  Not without some kind of strings attached. 

But Pete Lustig was that person.  Along with his wonderful and amazing partner, Penny, he was a constant source of support and advice, and he believed in me when I did not believe in myself anymore.  He encouraged me at every turn, told me that I could make it--I would just have a different life now, because I would be on a different path.  And I could talk to Pete about anything--ideas, fears, relationships, you name it.  He listened without judging, which is a rare quality in a person. Penny and Pete were always there, ready to lend an ear, a hand, and sometimes, a shoulder to cry on.

You see, I had always had a dream of becoming some sort of writer, but I always felt that I didn't have the education or the talent to actually do it. My family and friends always encouraged me to try, but I didn't know where to start. Well, Pete gave me my dream on a silver platter.  He introduced me to Marcos Menendez (another fine person, I might add), whom he worked with at an online marketing company called Loop Consulting.  They produce online newsletters, and other online marketing materials.  Pete got me a job working with them, and now I'm doing more and more projects.  So not only am I a freelance writer now, I'm referred to as Loop Consulting Group's Chief Editor.  Not bad for someone with no college education and no confidence in herself.  And it never would have happened without Pete.  My family is thankful and proud, and they will be eternally grateful to Pete for helping me to find my way.  How do you thank someone for completely changing your life?

And I was always amazed at his boundless energy and creativity.  In my opinion, Pete was truly a genius in many ways.  It was very easy to forget that Pete was 85. His mind was always turning out new ideas, and he was brilliant.  I only wish I could have met him sooner so that I could have learned more about his amazing life, and learned more from him as well.  He was a person of quality, with a heart that offered love freely.  As I stated before, Pete was rare.  I've never met anyone like him, and I likely never will again.

I still miss him everyday, as I'm sure his family, friends, and everyone he touched does.  People like Prescott T. "Pete" Lustig come along once in a lifetime, and it makes me sad that our time together as friends was so brief.  But I'm thankful to have even known him at all.  When I asked him once how I could ever thank him, he simply told me to keep doing what I'm doing--that was what would make him happiest.  So everyday, I keep at it, and I hope that he's looking down on me, and that I'm making him proud.

So, if you take nothing else from this, take with you the idea of being a better person.  As friends and mentors go, Pete was the example that all others should follow.  He actually did things for people with no other motive than to help.  His generous spirit will live on in all the people he touched, including myself. 

Farewell, my dear friend.  I miss you.

As some of you may know, our dear friend Pete from Late Life Crisis passed away on Tuesday, August 21, 2007.  I will post something more personal at a later date.  In the meantime, what follows is his obituary:

Source:

Prescott Thorne Lustig

BLOOMINGTON - Prescott Thorne "Pete" Lustig passed away quietly on Tuesday (Aug. 21, 2007) with his loving and devoted companion, Penny Houser Hall, at his bedside.

Cremation rites have been accorded by Beck Memorial Home, Bloomington. In lieu of flowers, gifts can be made in Pete's memory to the Mennonite Church of Normal, 805 S. Cottage Ave., Normal, IL 61761.

Pete, as he was known to all, was born Feb. 2, 1922, in Janesville, Wis., the oldest son of Joseph and Lois Thorne Lustig.

After graduation from the University of Wisconsin, Pete enlisted in the U.S. Navy in 1942 as an ensign and took his naval training at Great Lakes Naval Air station in Glenview. Pete served with distinction during World War II, participating in the invasion of Normandy on D-Day, June 6, 1944. He attained the rank of Lt. j.g. and was honorably discharged in 1946.

Following his military service, Pete carved out a career for himself in the advertising business with McCann Erickson in Portland, Ore., eventually becoming vice president. Although Pete retired from McCann Erickson, he never really retired. He went on to establish his own business as a consultant to technical advertising firms specializing in Internet creativity and e-newsletters.

Pete was 85 years "young" when he created his blog site, "The Late Life Crisis." He noted on his site: "All this furor about mid-life crisis leaves me unmoved. If you want the drama of lifestyle Crisis, wait until you get to late life. That's when things really change, adapting becomes a challenge." The site was an immediate success and once received the Blog of the Week Award with over 175,000 hits. The Bloomington newspaper, The Pantagraph, did a story about Pete and how well many "late lifers" are adapting to the Internet. He was extremely proud of "The Late Life Crisis" and of the many friends he made through the site.

He is survived by Penny Houser Hall, his devoted companion of many years. Also, surviving are two stepchildren, James Roberts, Aventura, Fla., and Laura Roberts Dick, her children and grandchildren, all of Bloomington.

His parents; one brother, Joseph Lustig; and his wife, Maudene Roberts Lustig, preceded him in death.

A memorial service is planned for 6 p.m. Sept. 4, 2007, at the Mennonite Church of Normal.

Farewell, dear friend....

Now, let me start by saying that I don’t have anything against psychologists, psychiatrists, or the mental health profession in general. They serve a vital function in society, and they help millions. As a matter of fact, I’ve been thinking lately that I’m probably in need of their services.  I’ve had therapy myself, some many years ago.  But sometimes, I truly believe that you can have too much therapy.  I know people who depend on those therapy sessions like I depend on my cane some days.  But, if that’s what they need to cope, then so be it.  Whatever gets you by.

Recently, I had an “armchair therapist” tell me that I need to “regain my sense of wonder”. 

Regain my sense of wonder.

Folks, all I can tell you is that my sense of wonder is alive, intact, and very active.  I wonder all the time.  I wonder if I’m going to be able to pay the light bill this month.  I wonder how much longer until I find a job I can make a living at with my health.  I wonder if my loved ones are safe today, and if they’ll stay safe for a long time.  I wonder why there are little children starving in the world. I wonder how long Ford Credit threatens you before they actually come and repossess your car.   I wonder why there is war, and why good young men and women are dying.  I wonder why four people in my little community have committed suicide in the last three months.  I wonder where I left that piece of paper I took notes on yesterday.  I wonder why my dog won’t do what I tell him.  I wonder if I’m going to get sicker, and if I do, if I’ll be able to get care. I wonder why little kids put things up their noses.  I wonder why men say they’ll call and then don’t.  I wonder if there is life on other planets.  I wonder if I’ll ever get to be one of the lucky ones and fall in love, and be loved in return.  I wonder if Lee Harvey Oswald was just a lone gunman.   I wonder if I need to be in therapy...

So you see, I feel that my sense of wonder is just fine, thank you. And if that’s all that therapy is going to be, then I fear I won’t have the patience to undergo the process.  As a matter of fact, I’d rather eat dirt.

I wonder how dirt tastes?..........

Hello all.  Once again, thank you for your comments and your support.

Today's topic:  Be careful what you wish for, because you just might get it.  After all my moaning and whining about working yesterday, I got up to feed my dogs.  My carport is slick concrete, and was wet from the rain, which makes it like ice. I approached it quite gingerly, as it has nabbed me more than once. Kind of like the kite-eating tree that always gets Charlie Brown's prized craft.  Well, despite my best efforts, it got me again.  Yep, I slipped and fell, right on my "arse".  Carport 3, Kat 0.  So as I lie there on my back, kind of doing a full body check, I contemplated my situation for a moment and thought, "Well, I wasn't looking forward to going to try and work, but this isn't really what I had in mind...."    My dogs, a Lab who weighs as much as I do, and a mutt who is my little angel, looked confused for a second, and then decided that they would help.  The little mutt licked my arm continuosly, while the Lab sniffed and nudged me with his nose, all over.  His opinion that I had not broken anything was a huge slurp across the face.  ( I guess you could say I had "Lab work" done....stole that from a joke I just read, but the irony didn't escape me..)

Now, a fall like this would make anybody hurt.  I'll let you use your imaginations to think about how it felt for me and my 100 pounds.  I've fallen many times, so I'm a bit used to it, but it does smart to say the least.  And today is even worse.  It seems the second day is always harder.  Anyway, my point is, the Lord giveth and the Lord taketh away, so be really careful what you ask him for.  Now, where did I put those epsom salts?.......

Have a great day, all...

Kat

It seems my grandmother is not quite ready to go gently into that good night...what I mean is, she has improved.  My poor father was only following the doctor's instructions to call in hospice care.  My grandmother insisted that night on being put in her wheelchair and taken to the dining room!  We went to see her Saturday, and there she was, sitting at the head of her little table of four, having her dinner.  Now, I'm not quite sure she knew who we were at first.  I'm not sure she knew me at all, and she was confused about my brother being there.  He lives in Charlotte, NC, and he had come down two weeks ago. She asked him Saturday, "Well, whatever possessed you to turn around and come right back?"  So her concept of time is a little off.  And she doesn't say much, even to direct questions.  No matter who you are, if you ask how she's doing, her stock answer is , "very well, thank you."  After all her years of working with the public as a hairdresser, she knows how to fake not knowing someone's name or face.

She is, of course, quite bloated.  The fluid building up in her lungs and around her heart continues.  There is only so much they can do medically at this point.  But what a surprise to see her sitting up like the Queen of Sheba.  My younger sister said it just flat out pissed her off when she realized they had called in hospice care!  And I think she's probably right.  Kate (my grandmother) was always as stubborn as they come.  The best way to have her learn to do something is to tell her she can't.  Got a little of that in me, I must confess.  But I saw her give my Dad a little smile with a gleam in her eye Saturday, as if to say, "I showed all of you, didn't I?"  So, I guess for the present, we'll not count her out just yet!