https://community.aarp.org/t5/Leisure-Lifestyle/The-Altitude-of-Gratitude/m-p/2605286#M17038 <P><STRONG>Altitude of Gratitude</STRONG></P><P>Yesterday near Queen’s Medical Center, I saw a disheveled homeless person buffeted by the wind. He had streams of garbage clinging to his body. He looked like a discarded scarecrow waiting to be refurbished with decayed plumage.</P><P>This person reminded me of John, one of my older community college students who I inexplicably happened to see sprawled at the dump as I was disposing my trash. In class, John was articulate and knowledgeable, always buoyant and optimistic, a role model for his classmates.</P><P>But at the dump, almost completely covered with refuse, John started to blubber about how despondent he was since his wife died a few months ago. I was stunned by his transformation miserable situation.</P><P>In class, John continued to be upbeat; but when he called me (sometimes late at night), he reemphasized his despair at losing his wife. My efforts to console him were futile until I mentioned group grief therapy. John attended every meeting and was ecstatic at the results: he unconditionally accepted the death of his wife. He no longer needed to call me for advice.</P><P>After the semester ended, I had no further contact with John. But I did once see him surrounded by his faithful grief comrades—or was I imagining the extent of this camaraderie. In any case, John was rescued from his self-pity. And I am glad that I had played a part in his recovery.</P> Thu, 03 Apr 2025 23:43:38 GMT schlomo 2025-04-03T23:43:38Z https://community.aarp.org/t5/Leisure-Lifestyle/The-Altitude-of-Gratitude/m-p/2605286#M17038 <P><STRONG>Altitude of Gratitude</STRONG></P><P>Yesterday near Queen’s Medical Center, I saw a disheveled homeless person buffeted by the wind. He had streams of garbage clinging to his body. He looked like a discarded scarecrow waiting to be refurbished with decayed plumage.</P><P>This person reminded me of John, one of my older community college students who I inexplicably happened to see sprawled at the dump as I was disposing my trash. In class, John was articulate and knowledgeable, always buoyant and optimistic, a role model for his classmates.</P><P>But at the dump, almost completely covered with refuse, John started to blubber about how despondent he was since his wife died a few months ago. I was stunned by his transformation miserable situation.</P><P>In class, John continued to be upbeat; but when he called me (sometimes late at night), he reemphasized his despair at losing his wife. My efforts to console him were futile until I mentioned group grief therapy. John attended every meeting and was ecstatic at the results: he unconditionally accepted the death of his wife. He no longer needed to call me for advice.</P><P>After the semester ended, I had no further contact with John. But I did once see him surrounded by his faithful grief comrades—or was I imagining the extent of this camaraderie. In any case, John was rescued from his self-pity. And I am glad that I had played a part in his recovery.</P> Thu, 03 Apr 2025 23:43:38 GMT https://community.aarp.org/t5/Leisure-Lifestyle/The-Altitude-of-Gratitude/m-p/2605286#M17038 schlomo 2025-04-03T23:43:38Z