Writing Class

I'm taking an online course in creative writing. It isn't what I expected. I wanted some professional criticism of my writing and to learn some skills. The instructor is a woman that lives near San Diego and has written dozens of books and thousands of magazine articles. She's knowledgeable for sure, but she believes in only encouraging you - no negative criticism. That's a problem for me. She also wants everything "G rated". That was an immediate obstacle for me, but it has forced me to think and write outside my comfort zone.

A recent assignment was to pick something that you can't throw away from your purse, wallet or junk drawer and write a 1000-1200 word essay about it. Then edit it down to 500 words. In the essay we were told to "arrive at a basic truth." Here's what I wrote:


I carry a plastic card in my wallet that’s never been used. It looks beat up and discolored because it has ridden along with me for so long. It may be used once in my life – maybe never. It’s a Medical Device ID card. It says that I have a Guidant CRT-P pacemaker, Model H/120, Serial No. 103547 that was implanted on August 8, 2006. Pretty mundane stuff.

When I received the card after getting this pacemaker – my second, I glanced at it and quickly put it in my wallet wondering what use it was to me. The answer is that it isn’t much use. It’s of no use getting through airport security. It’s not something you pull out to show friends. I don’t get a discount on my next pacemaker with it. The one thing it may be used for is to verify the identification of my pacemaker when it’s replaced sometime soon. But there is something else far more significant that makes it very useful. It’s a reminder.

A reminder of why I have that thing in my upper chest wall. It reminds me that I’m alive.

That’s pretty big. I didn’t die on October 28, 1997, -- the day I was “mostly dead” as Miracle Max said in The Princess Bride. I’m here right now. That’s something that changes you. You hear a lot about people who’ve had near death experiences. When they talk about it they often use the phrase “stop to smell the roses.” There are a lot of religious awakenings too. But that’s not me.

It’s subtle change. It made me realize how much I love good people. I can’t get enough of good people. I am astonished by how many good people there are. People who are generous, caring, supportive and comforting. Regular people who go to work, take care of their kids, are good to their parents and all the everyday stuff that a person does. People who quietly go about their lives successfully without notoriety.

My kids are good people. They know that there are some nasty lasting consequences of my being “mostly dead” that day. The disease that probably caused the heart episode has also invaded my nervous system and left me with very low blood pressure and other ugly symptoms. My kids know that I struggle with these problems. One reason I know this is because my oldest son once told me that he was worried because he knew that when I had to sit down to avoid passing out, I might self consciously only sit for thirty seconds rather and the three minutes that I really needed. That simple acknowledgement meant everything to me. Not only is he concerned about my well being but he has taken the time and interest to truly understand what I’m dealing with. That’s what a good person does.

You can easily spot a good person. They listen, they remember and they care enough to follow through. When they ask “How are you?” they really want to know. A good person has time for you. They don’t ask “Is there anything I can do?” They jump right in and help without being asked.

But the best thing of all about good people is they make you want to be a good person. They make you want to pay attention to people. They make you want to be there for your family and friends, your co-workers and even strangers. They make you want to be unselfish. Because in the end, doing the right thing – which is what being a good person boils down to – is its own reward. It gives you that private satisfaction that can’t be matched by any award or recognition.

I have literally had a second shot at life. It has made me appreciate how many good people have stepped up and supported me, comforted me and just plain been there for me. It has made me want to be a good person.

You don’t have to have a near death experience to appreciate good people or to be a good person. Just live a decent life and do the right thing. You know what it is. Anyone can do it.