In memory of Erma Bombeck who lost her fight with cancer (written after she found out she was dying):

“I would have gone to bed when I was sick instead of pretending the earth would go into a holding pattern if I weren’t there for the day.

“I would have burned the pink candle sculpted like a rose before it melted in storage.

“I would have talked less and listened more. 

“I would have invited friends over to dinner even if the carpet was stained, or the sofa faded.

“I would have eaten the popcorn in the ‘good’ living room and worried much less about the dirt when someone wanted to light a fire in the fireplace.

“I would have taken the time to listen to my grandfather ramble about his youth.

“I would have shared more of the responsibility carried by my husband. 

“I would never have insisted the car windows be rolled up on a summer day because my hair had just been teased and sprayed. 

“I would have sat on the lawn with my grass stains. 

“I would have cried and laughed less while watching television and more while watching life. 

“I would never have bought anything just because it was practical, wouldn’t show soil, or was guaranteed to last a lifetime. 

“Instead of wishing away nine months of pregnancy, I’d have cherished every moment and realized that the wonderment growing inside me was the only chance in life to assist God in a miracle. 

“When my kids kissed me impetuously, I would never have said, ‘Later. Now go get washed up for dinner.’ There would have been more, ‘I love you’s’, More, ‘I’m sorry’s.’ 

“But mostly, given another shot at life, I would seize every minute. Look at it and really see it. Live it and never give it back.

“STOP SWEATING THE SMALL STUFF!!! 

“Don’t worry about who doesn’t like you, who has more, or who’s doing what.

“Instead, let’s cherish the relationships we have with those who do love us.”

Keep the candle lit in memory of someone.

Thanks for passing the candle on to me, Diana!

Melanie Hack
Author of Who Killed My Sister, My friend
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Once upon a time, there was a king who ruled a prosperous country. One day, he went for a trip to some distant areas of his country. When he was back to his palace, he complained that his feet were very painful, because it was the first time that he went for such a long trip, and the road that he went through was very rough and stony. He then ordered his people to cover every road of the entire country with leather. Definitely, this would need thousands of cows’ skin, and would cost a huge amount of money.

Then one of his wise servants dared himself to tell the king, “Why do you have to spend that unnecessary amount of money? Why don’t you just cut a little piece of leather to cover your feet?”

The king was surprised, but he later agreed to his suggestion, to make a “shoe” for himself.

There is actually a valuable lesson of life in this story:

To make this world a happy place to live, you better change yourself – your heart, and not the world.

~Author Unknown

Melanie Hack
Author of Who Killed My Sister, My friend
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A businessman was highly critical of his competitors’ storefront windows.

“Why, they are the dirtiest windows in town,” he claimed.

Fellow business people grew tired of the man’s continual criticism and nitpicking comments about the windows. One day over coffee, the businessman carried the subject just too far.

Before leaving, a fellow storeowner suggested the man get his own windows washed. He followed the advice, and the next day at coffee, he exclaimed, “I can’t believe it. As soon as I washed my windows, my competitor must have cleaned his too. You should see them shine.”

Confucius once declared, “Don’t complain about the snow on your neighbor’s roof when your own doorstep is unclean.”

~Author Unknown

Melanie Hack
Author of Who Killed My Sister, My friend
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You have heard of the cup that overflowed. This is a story of a bucket that is like the cup, only larger, it is an invisible bucket. Everyone has one. It determines how we feel about ourselves, about others, and how we get along with people. Have you ever experienced a series of very favorable things that made you want to be good to people for a week? At that time, your bucket was full.

A bucket can be filled by a lot of things that happen. When a person speaks to you, recognizing you as a human being, your bucket is filled a little. Even more if he calls you by name, especially if it is the name you like to be called. If he compliments you on your dress or on a job well done, the level in your bucket goes up still higher. There must be a million ways to raise the level in another’s bucket. Writing a friendly letter, remembering something that is special to him, knowing the names of his children, expressing sympathy for his loss, giving him a hand when his work is heavy, taking time for conversation, or, perhaps more important, listing to him.

When one’s bucket is full of this emotional support, one can express warmth and friendliness to people. But, remember, this is a theory about a bucket and a dipper. Other people have dippers and they can get their dippers in your bucket. This, too, can be done in a million ways.

Let’s say I am at a dinner and inadvertently upset a glass of thick, sticky chocolate milk that spills over the tablecloth, on a lady’s skirt, down onto the carpet. I am embarrassed. Someone across the table says, “You upset that glass of chocolate milk.” I made a mistake, I know I did, and then he told me about it! He got his dipper in my bucket! Think of the times a person makes a mistake, feels terrible about it, only to have someone tell him about the known mistake (‘Red pencil’ mentality!)

Buckets are filled and buckets are emptied. –Emptied many times because people don’t really think about what are doing. When a person’s bucket is emptied, he is very different than when it is full. You say to a person whose bucket is empty, “That is a pretty tie you have,” and he may reply in a very irritated, defensive manner.

Although there is a limit to such an analogy, there are people who seem to have holes in their buckets. When a person has a hole in his bucket, he irritates lots of people by trying to get his dipper in their buckets. This is when he really needs somebody to pour it in his bucket because he keeps losing.

The story of our lives is the interplay of the bucket and the dipper. Everyone has both. The unyielding secret of the bucket and the dipper is that when you fill another’s bucket it does not take anything out of your own bucket. The level in our own bucket gets higher when we fill another’s, and, on the other hand, when we dip into another’s bucket we do not fill our own … we lose a little.

For a variety of reasons, people hesitate filling the bucket of another and consequently do not experience the fun, joy, happiness, fulfillment, and satisfaction connected with making another person happy. Some reasons for this hesitancy are that people think it sounds ‘fake’, or the other person will be suspicious of the motive, or it is ‘brown-nosing’.

Therefore, let us put aside our dipper and resolve to touch someone’s life in order to fill his or her bucket.

~Author Unknown

Melanie Hack
Author of Who Killed My Sister, My friend
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TV Shows and Clips about the Death of Cindy James

“This world was never meant for one as beautiful as you.”
~Don Mclean

Melanie Hack
Author of Who Killed My Sister, My friend
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TV Shows and Clips about the Death of Cindy James

While at the park one day, a woman sat down next to a man on a bench near a playground.

“That’s my son over there,” she said, pointing to a little boy in a red sweater who was gliding down the slide.

“He’s a fine looking boy” the man said. “That’s my daughter on the bike in the white dress.”

Then, looking at his watch, he called to his daughter. “What do you say we go, Melissa?”

Melissa pleaded, “Just five more minutes, Dad. Please? Just five more minutes.”

The man nodded and Melissa continued to ride her bike to her heart’s content. Minutes passed and the father stood and called again to his daughter. “Time to go now?”

Again Melissa pleaded, “Five more minutes, Dad. Just five more minutes.”

The man smiled and said, “OK.”

“My, you certainly are a patient father,” the woman responded.

The man smiled and then said, “Her older brother Tommy was killed by a drunk driver last year while he was riding his bike near here. I never spent much time with Tommy and now I’d give anything for just five more minutes with him. I’ve vowed not to make the same mistake with Melissa.

She thinks she has five more minutes to ride her bike. The truth is, I get five more minutes to watch her play.”

Life is all about making priorities, what are your priorities? Give someone you love 5 more minutes of your time today!

~Author Unknown

Melanie Hack
Author of Who Killed My Sister, My friend
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TV Shows and Clips about the Death of Cindy James

One day, the father of a very wealthy family took his son on a trip to the country with the express purpose of showing him how poor people live.

They spent a couple of days and nights on the farm of what would be considered a very poor family.

On their return from their trip, the father asked his son, “How was the trip?”

“It was great, Dad.”

“Did you see how poor people live?” the father asked.

“Oh yeah,” said the son.

“So, tell me, what did you learn from the trip?” asked the father.

The son answered: “I saw that we have one dog and they had four. We have a pool that reaches to the middle of our garden and they have a creek that has no end. We have imported lanterns in our garden and they have the stars at night. Our patio reaches to the front yard and they have the whole horizon.

“We have a small piece of land to live on and they have fields that go beyond our sight.

“We have servants who serve us, but they serve others. We buy our food, but they grow theirs.

“We have walls around our property to protect us, they have friends to protect them.”

The boy’s father was speechless.

Then his son added, “Thanks Dad for showing me how poor we are.”

~Author Unknown

Melanie Hack
Author of Who Killed My Sister, My friend
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TV Shows and Clips about the Death of Cindy James

An elderly gentleman had serious hearing problems for a number of years. He went to the doctor and the doctor was able to have him fitted for a set of hearing aids that allowed the gentleman to hear 100%. The elderly gentleman went back in a month to the doctor and the doctor said, “Your hearing is perfect. Your family must be really pleased that you can hear again.”

The gentleman replied, “Oh, I haven’t told my family yet. I just sit around and listen to the conversations. I’ve changed my will three times!”

Melanie Hack
Author of Who Killed My Sister, My friend
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Last Tuesday I mentioned the family cat, Pumpkin, was missing and I’m grateful to everyone who wrote to me since then with thoughts and well wishes and questions of whether or not we’ve found her.

Thanks for all your concern.

Last week my children put up posters (having Pumpkin’s photo and explaining about her tail that’s kinked in 5 places and a number to call if she was found) in our area and we talked with residents, but there was no sign of Pumpkin.

I walked the land and the ravine on our property looking for…well…anything that might indicate what happened to her.

But there was no clue!

On Friday I washed both her food and water dishes and put them on the storage shelf downstairs, and put the bag of food away. (Both kids noticed those changes when they got home from school that day!)

But just in case, I left a bed outside for Pumpkin…on the covered back patio!

(But it was snowing then…and got pretty cold at night…and it’s been snowing pretty much every day since.)

Pumpkin has now been gone a week.

There was no word of her at the SPCA.

So we’ve taken down the posters.

I guess we can pretend she found a home with someone (but I fear she was caught by a coyote). But who knows!

We all miss her.

Our hope has faded.

Melanie Hack
Author of Who Killed My Sister, My friend
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I saw fear in the eyes of an aged loved one and it was painful to watch because it was unexpected…it caught me off guard.

It’s difficult to see that fear—whether it’s the fear of the dying process, or fears related to being dead:

Fear of pain…

Fear of physical distress and suffering…

Fear of becoming a burden…

Fear of family desertion…

Fear of abandonment by physicians…

Fear of losing one’s mental function…

Fear of losing one’s status…

Fear of losing one’s dignity (loss of privacy)…

Fear of being considered worthless…

Fear of being addicted to narcotics…

Fear that one’s accomplishments are almost over…

And fear of death itself.

Which one is your beloved experiencing? Take the time to be an active listener and ask gentle questions…and you’ll find out!

Melanie Hack
Author of Who Killed My Sister, My friend
Read an excerpt now
TV Shows and Clips about the Death of Cindy James