Here too!

We're with you . . .

I'm with you, Ronni, and I appreciate you as our spokesperson.
I suspect many of us by now have watched family and friends precede us down this road. I've asked my doctor why that number is creeping up and heard him tell me "We're keeping an eye on it." I feel comfortable saying that anything you want to share is fine with us.

Thank you so much for your willingness to share your most private journey. My hat is off to you for providing a forum for discussing one of the most important aspects of growing old: dying. I, too, have a life-threatening illness that literally takes my breath away. A few days ago, the doctor found a nodule on my lung X-ray. Don't know yet if that means cancer in addition to everything else.

For the last year or so, I have been looking into all manner of books about dying. One of the best I've read is "The Five Invitations: Discovering what death can teach us about living fully" by Frank Ostaseski. He is a renowned Buddhist teacher and co-founder of the Zen Hospice Project. More importantly, he has sat with hundreds of people at their death. You don't have to be a Buddhist to appreciate his insights on how unique the dying process is for each person, and how death can teach us about living whatever life we have left.

I am really looking forward to your thoughts on your own process as it develops. Namaste.

Yes, indeed, I am very much with you. Thank you for your posts.

Count me in... and a friend nearing the end of her life smiled and said, "Now I can eat bacon anytime I want!"

Oh, Ronni! We love and care about you and will be here with you. I have a friend here in Phoenix who has your same diagnosis but chose not to have surgery. Your words and experience helped her even though she made a different decision. Thank you! Keep writing...

I’m here. I know I shouldn’t be crying. And also smiling. All at once. But I am. No more exercise—good for you. And the rest. You are so wise and brave. I have marveled at you since I read your first word in my 30s (39 I believe), through my 40s, into my 50s. You don’t know how you helped me into and through menopause. As a blogger, you raised me. Now, at 56, I continue to marvel at your writing and perspective, your insights and humor. I’m here.

No words right now Ronnie other than to say that the choices you have made during your life appear to have served you well. Continuing to do what you love to do can only bring you peace, joy, and happiness. The journey isn't ending, it's only taken a different path.

I'm here. I read your blog every day but rarely comment. Your humor and wisdom inspire me every day as I plod along on my own ill-health journey. You cannot know how dear you are to me and how much hope and happiness you give me. We're definately going to need a bigger boat!

Oh, my. Your blog has been and will continue to be a wonderful place to visit. Now you are teaching us about bravery. Thank you.

I’m here, too, Ronni. I have been with you on this aging journey for many years and always appreciate your insights and honesty. ❤️

Add my voice to the choir. I'm at a loss for words to express how much I admire your strength and composure is sharing your news.

Here for the duration. Keep doing what brings you joy.

I'm here, Ronni. (And for once in my life somewhat lost for words.)

You are a gift. You matter!Thank You.

I've been reading books on dying lately, and thinking I was handling all this knowledge well.

Until I read your post and it hit like a gut punch. Guess I'm fine with death in the abstract, but not at all when it threatens people I know.

You've been such a guide for the rest of us -- noticing things that I never would have (e.g., typing errors and dropping things). We're all blessed to have your keen eye to show us where this boat we're all on is going and to point out sights along the way.

Keep guiding us as long as it gives you pleasure. We're lucky to have you.

Hi Ronnie, I have been a silent follower of yours for about 2 years and eagerly look forward to your posts. I'm sorry to hear of your prognosis, and admire your approach to the news.

Please know you have inspired many people, provided clarity to us, and offered practical conversations we can participate in.

Thank you, and enjoy your 'let it happen' future.

You posts have meant a lot to me ever since I discovered your blog almost a year ago. Now reading your brave thoughts as you move forward makes me feel what a privilege it has been to know you through them. Thank you for being so open and sharing about your life. I will be reading your posts and sending good thoughts your way for as long as I can. You have many friends, many of us who wish you well even though you do not know us as individuals. Your honesty is a gift to the world.

You've given, and continue to give, us all so much of yourself, Ronni. The equanimity that comes through your post is astonishing. I hope some day to have a measure of the grace you display. I'm gratefully onboard.

I am one of your so far....mostly invisible readers...but know this...I will miss you terribly..I cannot bear the thought of time without your column...how selfish of me to write of my sorrow...I pray you will not suffer in the days ahead...you have given so much to so many...with salty tears and an aching heart...Suzanne

I've never posted a comment here before but I've been reading your wonderful blog for a couple years now. I am in my forties and really appreciate the insights into aging, and hope I can apply them to my own life. You have built something really wonderful here, and I will be here reading as you continue onward. Thank you so much!

I am with you, every step of the way.

Thank you so much for being you - I love getting your blog posts in my emails and am looking forward to continuing to follow your journey as long as you care to. I know it sounds so silly because we've never met or talked, but your writings mean a ton to me. I'm out here rooting for you!

Thank you, thank you, thank you!

I read your blog every day and have learned so much from it! Thank you for going on with it. We're all with you on this journey.

I am so happy you had your time of feeling good after all you had been through. This news is super crappy but boy do I so agree with your attitude. You are still the you you were before the bad news & will carry on & do what you enjoy for as long as you can.
We will be honored for you to share what you can of your journey.

I have enjoyed your blog for so many years. My heart became heavy as I read your post but I know that I will continue on this next chapter in your journey. Thank you and bless you.

Ronni, I haven't been able to comment for quite a while, but I am still here with you every day and here I will stay. This boat is pretty big.

For me every column you write has such value, and your honesty helps me navigate my own life. I live with and provide full-time care for my sis with dementia.

This was indeed a gut punch for me...unimaginable how it feels to you. I have to agree with what others have said, and Marilyn said it above. We're lucky to have you.

I wish you peace and strength always and anger when it helps.
annie

I will be thinking of you and following your journey. Thank you so much for your willingness to share. It’s a journey we will have to take and I believe you will offer us guidance. Hopefully we can give you some support.

Shit. Are we allowed to curse here? Too late. I thought the beginning of the blog was referring to the past and am too sad to find that it's not.
I have been reading your blog, the only blog I read, for years now and it has so helped me deal with aging and the idea of death to come. One of my sisters will not talk about death; like many people, she's afraid. I find I am not, anymore. And I find when I'm doing some daily thing like flossing how I won't miss that when I'm dead!!

All aboard with you, Ronnie. Bon voyage.

About three years ago I found you when I was looking for blogs on aging. I'm 74 and raising great-grandkids. I know almost no people my age and so have felt sort of adrift in the aging process. I kept wondering what "normal" was supposed to be for this time of life. You helped me connect to myself at this point in the aging journey. Now, it seems, you will be helping me connect to the rest of the journey.

I am so grateful to you for connecting us all with your blog. Like all the rest who have loved reading you and taken so much from you, I remain here and send you hugs and gratitude.

Every single thing you write from now on will be valuable. Not that you haven't been valuable to date, but now your courage and clear thinking and willingness to know will play new roles. Thank you. I'm here.

"Now I don't have to worry about dementia" ??? Best line I've ever read, written in these circumstances. I'm on a waiting list for the second boat, as the first one is filled. Powerful energy coming your way from all your Blog-Buddies.

As I read today's post, I was reminded of reading the Place Holder post you sent recently -- as is my wont, I tend to read closely [sometimes neurotically--] - I also tend to read things into what I am reading. And the sentence you included there - " Now there has been a different kind of disruption that prevents me from getting something useful – or, at least, entertaining – done for today." ---- gave me pause. And left me with some worries--

Then I told myself that I was over-reading, and I should leave it alone.

I read your current post through to its end, suddenly feeling very much like a weepy child, suddenly fearful and uncertain. I felt a lot of the things others have mentioned, deep sadness, most of all, combined with the immense admiration I/we have felt all along, especially since this disease first hit you. Like others, I cannot really imagine a world without you and Time Goes By.

Believe me, I am here, and with you, and still possessed of a kind of optimism that hopes that you will be able to continue enjoying the life you are now leading, that will find joy and pleasure in your writing, your communicating with us, with your friends, with Ollie..

I have no intention of leaving you -- and all your amazing cor-respondents. All of you combined have educated, impressed, cheered, and amused me for several years now. I have shared your blog with others, many of whom now have their own subscriptions.

And I look forward to participating in your continuing life.

Still, I echo Florence, whose post is just above mine: "But oh Ronni, damn just damn."

Gail and I cannot remember exactly when we first picked up on your blog site - but was years ago when you were in New York. We empathized with you then, as we do now in this room that is beginning to darken. We kidded you for leaving knowing 'you can take the girl out of New York - but not the New York out of the girl'. It's still true. Remember when?

Then you were off to Portland, Maine cat and all . . .

Then to Portland, Oregon a town I lived in as a little elementary kid 70 years ago.

Once we knew you were in Portland - we made the journey from Florida to Lake Oswego to have lunch. And 3,000 miles later did so! We are proud to have met you and spent what seemed at the time an entire afternoon together. It was worth the journey.

Then the prognosis . . . I was probably one of the dozens suggesting to you not to give in - but to carry us all into your life and share with us the expected unexpected. The premise was we need to know too! Once you decided to stay, Gail and I promised to stay by your side - Jim on the left Gail on your right. We will always be with you on this next leg of your journey.

Again Ronni - a heartfelt Godspeed. Know every moment someone is there thinking and praying for you and wishing you a safe and harmless journey.

Jim and Gail Hood
Palm Coast, Florida

Your boat feels like an ark this morning with all of us on board. We are birthed alone and we seem to die alone although some evidence indicates presences around the dying.

As long as we can we will be accompanying you and floating this ark with love.

Your willingness to share this voyage with all of us has made my mornings for some years now. I appreciate your many insights and look forward to more.

Thank you Ronnie.

May your writing continue to be as rewarding for you as it is for your readers as long as possible. I’m sure you have many readers like me who are nourished by your honest writing yet rarely comment and untold scores who soak up your insights and wisdom and never comment. You are a powerful magnet and food for the soul.

Oh my..so many thoughts going thru my head. I’ve been a follower for many years and have so enjoyed your blog. I feel like I know you.
Of course the usual feelings of so sorry, live for the moment, we all die, you’ve had a great life...etc. etc. that people say and of course mean sincerely, myself included.

My mother died of ovarian cancer at 80. My husband died of glioblastoma brain cancer at 68. My brother has battled three cancers...still battling. I have many friends who are widows, so death is very near and familiar as we age.

One thing I thought when you mentioned not exercising or worrying about Alzheimers anymore, were you won’t see the horror and dismantling of our democracy if trump is re-elected in 2020.

As a 71 yr old childless widow, I have felt compelled to get all my affairs in order, as I know what is coming and I have done so. It is a relief.

My friends and I speak of death often now and our fears about it. Everyone of course fears pain, but I think today that is pretty much alleviated. Some fear the unknown, but I just hope there’s nothing, which I believe. But strictly speaking for myself, I suffer from, as the kids say, FOMO. This is "fear of missing out." I hate the thought of not knowing what goes on in the world...what happens in politics, technology, climate change and younger people I know. I wish I could just peak back every 50 years just to see. I might be glad I was gone...who knows.

I have no other words...just that’s it’s been a pleasure to have experienced your blog and many fine posts and articles. You truly have contributed to people, which is more than most of us can say. Be proud.

Hugs (and tears) and enjoy the chocolate, bacon, ice cream, and any other treat you desire. May your next phase be full of sunshine and serenity - with calm waters given the number of us on this boat (ocean liner) with you.

Deborah

Count me in, Ronni. Thank you for letting us share your journey with such dignity, honesty, wisdom and humor.

My beloved mother, who had a Zen-like approach to life, lived to age 94, and in the last two years had to give up her independence and move from her home to assisted living. The last year of life she was ready to move on but her sense of humor was intact. When someone asked how she was......in spite of all the outward changes and increased frailty.....her response was wonderful; "I'm doing the best I can with what I have to work with!"

Ann

Damn, Ronnie, damn. Despite the added time from the Whipple, it’s too soon. Just damn. I hope you can feel the wave of love from us washing towards you.

Ronni- I have read and enjoyed your blog for quite a while, but not commented. I am surprised at what a blow, to me, your post was today. As everyone here has said I have been inspired and encouraged by your writing. Thank you for all you are and all you share.
Lela

Echoing many others... oh damn, Ronni.

One of the things I've been discovering on my own journey is that I am thinking a lot about my legacy... about what changes I've made in the world by existing. I hope all these voices telling you how much you've changed their lives for the better will be a comfort to you. You've certainly made a huge difference for me. You and all your readers have taught me to be wiser and less fearful, to feel less alone. For that gift, I thank you!

I am so very sorry to read this, Ronni. Your readers are a devoted lot and we'll stick with you. Thank you for all the years you've written this excellent blog, thank you for the interview you granted Experience Talks, and thank you for continuing to write and allow us to share this time with you.

A friend whose partner has just advanced into hospice care (spinal cancers) wrote this to their friends: "There is no good way to die. But if we must die, and we all must, may it be with a community as loving, as present, as kind as you." I hope we can be that for Ronni, even though many of us from afar.

Bless you, bless you, bless you, a blessing for every moment. Even though I know this can, and undoubtedly will be a journey of beauty for you, right now I am so sad, as, probably you have been. And it is for that I am so sorry. Whatever you wish to express, it can only be good. You have much support here with all of us to whom your truth telling has always been so beneficial. You are admired and loved. My blessing candle will be lit for you tomorrow morning. With miles of gratitude..................

What they all said!

Initially I came upon your blog when like me, you decided to move to the opposite coast & feel like we have shared so much. Opening your post is the first thing I do each AM, after awakening to face the real world. I have learned so much about life from your thoughtful, perceptive, & often eye-opening posts & have come to admire your honesty, wisdom, wit & appreciation of all that matters in our shared lives. As you continue walking your road, I am holding your hand. Know that you are loved by all your friends here.

I think this calls for an extra-large bowl of ice cream.

Damn it! You were not supposed to do this - I wanted you to stick around to humor me until I left! We (your readers) did not give you permission to leave and do not like this one bit!

All craziness aside, I do know how very much you will be missed and how much you have added to so many peoples' well being over the years.

Sending all my appreciation for all you have given to me.

Sidney

I’m here; as I have been for years. Sorry to read this, but I know you will handle whatever happens with grace and wisdom. You’re a good teacher, Ronnie. Take good care.