In the hustle and bustle I face with so many things I choose to do in my life, I find myself doing a lot of counting. I am a creature of habit, in most of the things I do. While coaching baseball and softball, I had to keep player statistics. I got used to doing it the P & P way. (Pencil and Paper) When I first started, I did the column addition, subtraction, multiplication, and division with just my Eberhard Faber in hand and a notebook of blank composition pages. As time moved on, I began using graph paper to keep my lines and columns straight, and then added the use of a calculator (though my hitting keys on a small device never was, still isn’t, and probably will never be, perfected in any way, shape, or form by me in this life. I did my grading in school the same way. I do use calculators now, but I don’t always trust them, so I do my checking ala Smith Barney, (the Old-fashioned Way), and get out my yellow legal pad and #2 pencil.

In late January each year, I gather all my income tax information, neatly organize it, and bring to my brother-in law who checks my numbers, because as I compile the info each year, it’s not in the neatest of presentations, so I go back, print (again the P & P way), adding all my medical deduction figures, my charitable contributions, my incomes and interest earnings, and whatever else I’ve compiled, and do the math with a calculator, and then recheck it myself via Smith Barney’s way.

It’s safe to say, through the course of a year, I do lots of counting, but sometimes I forget to count the most important things I should count, and those are all the people, opportunities, challenges, ups and downs, ebbs and flows, good times and bad, all of which had given me an “It’s a Wonderful Life” existence in my time on Earth.

I have a very bad habit, at times, of uttering and/or thinking the expression, “Why me?” when things sometimes happen that may cost me money, time, or inconvenience in my life. Appropriate as it sounds, I say I’m a “glass is half empty,” person, more than I care to admit.

I, like any and everyone else, have suffered some loss of loved ones, I’ve failed at many things I set out to do in my Earthly tenure, I’ve had to deal with major repairs, wishing like anyone else, I didn’t have to do so. I’ve lost things that were of value to me, either through accidental discarding, or wear and tear, or just plain misplacement.

Sometimes, I forget many others have many worse situations happening in their lives, be they health (physical and mental) issues, financial circumstances, loneliness, unemployment, and more. I’ve been so lucky to have had a pretty healthy life, despite some of my choices/actions that might have jeopardized that, from my teenage years to now. Ten years ago, on March 21, I’ll be celebrating the successful implantation of three heart stents in my chest, which made me take stock of what could have happened. It made me see my doctors regularly, make changes in some diet habits, and most recently, to regularly exercise since I’ve fully retired from coaching and umpiring. (Haven’t perfected all the diet habits yet, and probably won’t, but I’ll keep on keeping on.)

Six years ago, I suffered a fall, resulting in a mini-football sized subdural hematoma, caused by my head being introduced to a gymnasium floor. I was out of my regular routine for about two months before I could get back to driving, exercising, and it forced my premature end of coaching.

In both incidents, there but for the grace of God, and without the knowledge and skills of many, in the medical and therapy fields, from Urgent Care to the Emergency Rooms at UPMC Chautauqua and Hamot, my PA, Ashley Balling, all those who had a hand in my care at both hospitals, ambulance personnel, Star Flight (twice) pilots and crew, Dr. Jim Cirbus, all the way up to Drs. Ferraro and El Zuway who took care of my before, during, and after care, and then, the ladies who helped me in rehab, I might literally be a “ghost” writer of this column right now. Instead, I can look back at things I’ve been able to do since their occurrences, and thank my Maker, and my lucky stars, that I’ve been able to extend my wonderful life so much longer with Sally, watch my children’s lives become an even bigger source of pride, see my grandchildren become even better people they were pre-incidents, and be around to celebrate the births of my two beautiful granddaughters, and my smart-as-a-whip great-grandson.

I’ve said it often, I’ve been blessed with an amazing family, some of them dealing with their own health issues, wonderful friends (some who have passed), terrific opportunities to do the things I’ve done, and though I’ve never been financially rich, I’ve been appreciatively comfortable. I’ve had a house we made a home, good food on the table, clothes on our backs, I had the greatest career anyone could have (sorry, I’m biased), and I’ve even had setbacks that have challenged me to learn, improve, and that have allowed me to pause and recount all the blessings I’ve had in my life from the very day I was born, which I’m doing right now.

I know it’s sometimes a slogan, a cliche, an advertising tagline, but it’s something many of us, especially me at the head of that line, need to do often, and that’s to “Count Your (My) Blessings,” and after doing it, to say Thanks to, and for, the who(s) and what(s) that are those blessings. Hopefully, I’m doing that right now.