On my long and winding yellow brick road of life, two things occurred that radically changed my life. Allow me to explain by presenting the backstory. The first happenstance, moving to Mt. Lebanon, PA, from Pennsauken, NJ, was the first trauma. My father got a promotion in the insurance company for which he worked, which meant moving from the Philadelphia office to the company’s home office in Pittsburgh. Since WWII kept him from going to college, he wanted his children to attend the best school system in the Pittsburgh area. My father wanted to provide an excellent preparation for us to go to college. He asked a realtor for the best school system in the metropolitan area. Mt. Lebanon was the answer. It was also the 19^th-best school system in the country and the richest community in Western Pennsylvania.

My family left Pennsauken, which was a nice middle-class town where I was an above-average student, and moved to Mt. Lebanon just before I entered junior high school. I learned two things in Mt. Lebanon: I was dumb and poor. In the golden ghetto of Mt. Lebanon, getting mostly Cs and occasionally As and Bs made my educational and financial Weltanschauung an unpleasant experience.

That was the beginning of my journey. It took me much of my life to realize that my mindset wasn’t accurate. Even now, I still hear those echoes of being dumb and poor bouncing around in my mind.

The other trauma was the two dances with death, both of which occurred in 2008. I had prostate cancer that had metastasized outside my prostate, and I fell off a ladder, hitting my head on a stone retaining wall in my backyard.

The University of Chicago robotically removed my prostate. Then, I took a new experimental drug for two months. For the following two months, I went to the oncology department for daily radiation treatment and continued to take the drug. Today, I have been free of cancer for over fifteen years.

When I fell off the ladder, I was taken to a local hospital with a subdural hematoma. The neurosurgeon told my family prior to the surgery that I had a 50-50 chance of making it through the surgery. I don’t recall the fall, the four weeks in ICU, or most of the three weeks in a rehab hospital. I have recovered from that trauma with only a hearing problem.

That is the backstory. It will explain my Weltanschauung over the last dozen years. I went to Myanmar in my attempt to interview Aung San Suu Kyi. I failed even in contacting the Lady. Nevertheless, I traveled for a month within the tourist triangle.

When I was near Inle Lake, Moh Moh, my tour guide, had to stop at her home and pick up my itinerary after leaving the area around the lake. She mentioned that Ti Ti, her oldest daughter, was home on winter break. We walked into their living room and were greeted by her daughter, “Hi. My name is Ti Ti. Do you want to play some games?”

Now, Ti Ti and I are both firstborns, which means that we are very competitive. However, I was in my seventies and was interested in having fun as we played Scrabble. Ti Ti went to a small bookshelf and got a pad of paper and a pencil. She wrote a word on the top of the page and handed me the pad and pencil. I didn’t know what to do. There wasn’t any board or dice. Ti Ti apparently read my bewilderment and said, “I thought you knew how to play Scrabble. Here, I’ll show you.”

At the time, I thought Ti Ti’s comment was cute, and we played Scrabble together. Any person I have spoken to about Ti Ti has heard this story many more times than they wished. When we got to the end of the game, I started to get up, but she said to sit back down while she added up the score. I obeyed, sat back, and watched a determined nine-year-old tally the score. Then her eyes seemed three times their actual size as she declared, “I won. I knew I could beat you.” I quickly responded by sticking my finger in her face and saying, “Young lady, don’t you ever forget this. You beat me in my game, in my language, in your country.”

I left their living room, having been beaten by a nine-year-old while playing Scrabble. However, I also discovered my granddaughter. Ti Ti is no longer a nine-year-old kid, but rather a beautiful 21-year-old young lady.

Ti Ti and her two younger sisters and parents are a part of my family. In a recent article, I mentioned that my family pays homage to me each year in early October.

My family is Theravada Buddhists. In early October, they celebrate Thadingyut, which is also called the Festival of Lights. One important aspect of that holiday is to pay homage to those who helped them and whom they love and respect, especially the elderly. Each year, they pay homage to me, which is their way of expressing gratitude to me.

The issue of paying homage is a reciprocal relationship. Essentially, life boils down to my mantra: “It is in giving that we get.” The more we give, the more we get. All of us are fortunate to have come into this world.

While we are here, we need to share with each other acts of caring and love. Having danced with death twice, I know my clock is ticking. None of us knows when our clocks will stop ticking. Therefore, we can’t just sit around indifferent to others.

As Ti Ti’s doting grandfather, I’ll jump at a chance to express my care for her. Those expressions of love vary from encouragement, time shared together, to things like gifts or money.

On my last birthday, Ti Ti sent me three gifts. Having grandchildren is the best part of aging. Now, she has heard me mention my mantra an endless number of times. So, when I wrote to her that Ginger and I had received her gifts, I asked Ti Ti who was happier, the giver or the receiver. She replied, “It means a lot to know the gifts made you happy. As for who is happier, I’d say it’s a tie! Seeing you delighted makes my heart so full, and I couldn’t ask for more.”

Ti Ti understood that the benefit of giving and sharing with others will benefit both the giver and receiver. While that might sound like an oxymoron, it is the very basis of living a meaningful life.

In a recent email, Ti Ti told me that her wisdom teeth were causing her a great deal of pain. I told her that I’d cover the cost of having them pulled. If our roles were reversed, she would have done the same thing.

A week later, I get an email from Ti Ti with a video attached. Yes, Ti Ti appreciated my concern for her. Nevertheless, she also knows that I love and care for her, and we both benefit.

An addendum. In one of my emails, I mentioned that Ginger, my Irish Setter, has to go to a canine dental vet due to an inflammation of her gums caused by some meds that she is taking. I sent Ti Ti these photos that I took of her gums.