Heartbreaking and Heartwarming story: Little Afghan girl who is a Taliban victim.

I’ve been reading so many hateful & false messages going around the internet since the horrific shootings of 20 young American children last week. These messages meanly claim that Americans only care if American children are harmed and don’t care at all if the child is another nationality. How very wrong they are. Over and over again I read accounts of individual Americans reaching out to help children all over the world.

When the Taliban killed a young girl’s father and brother, who stepped in to help? An American nonprofit children’s organization.
Sure, many people from many countries help young children in need, but you can’t discount the fact that Americans are in that group.

Here’s a heartbreaking story where a young girls was saved and enormous effort is being made to help her.

I believe that most people are good, and most people would never harm a child. Of course, the Taliban is not of that group. They seem to take great pleasure in harming and murdering children.

ANYHOW, here is the story:

Six year-old girl shot in face by Taliban and left for dead gets free surgery in US

By Greg Cergol, NBCNewYork.com

A 6-year-old girl — shot and left for dead by the Taliban in Afghanistan earlier this year — received free reconstructive surgery at a hospital in the U.S. Friday.

“She’s OK. All is good, thank God!” said Elissa Montanti of the Global Medical Relief Fund.

The nonprofit children’s organization, based on Staten Island, helped bring Marizeh to the U.S. after the attack that cost the girl her right eye.

Taliban fighters ambushed Marizeh’s family as they drove home in a remote, unidentified region of Afghanistan last spring, said Montanti.

Her father tried to hide the girl under his feet inside the family car but she was shot in the face, after watching both her father and brother murdered.

“They thought she had died. She was there for three hours before she was discovered,” said Marizeh’s doctor, Kaveh Alizadeh.

The plastic surgeon, who founded a nonprofit group that provides medical care to needy children, first heard Marizeh’s story during a trip to Afghanistan.

On Friday, Alizadeh performed surgery on Marizeh at South Nassau Communities hospital on Long Island to help repair lingering damage to her breathing and facial structure. She had previously been fitted with a temporary prosthetic eye.

The medical care should have cost upwards of $100,000, Alizadeh said; but in this case, it was all done for free.

“To think about the trauma she’s been through and to see her come down and have a smile on her face, it’s unbelievable,” said hospital chief operations officer Joseph LaMantia.

Marizeh is expected to leave the Oceanside hospital this weekend and return to the Global Medical Relief Fund’s headquarters in Staten Island.

Thousands rally in Karachi for Malala, 14-year-old Pakistani girl shot by Taliban

It’s unclear when she will go home to Afghanistan. Montanti declined to reveal Marizeh’s last name or hometown, for fear the Taliban will target her again.

“If they know the Americans are helping them, it’s dangerous. So we have to be cautious,” Montanti said.

For all who helped Marizeh, it was a danger worth facing, to restore a little girl’s smile.

“She is a very happy little girl, a lovely girl,” Montanti said.

Happy Days! All three books about PRINCESS SULTANA in one edition.

For years I’ve had requests for all three books to be in one edition. It’s finally happened. Princess, Princess Sultana’s Daughters and Princess Sultana’s Circle are available in one e-book so those readers who would like to read all three. And, the publisher has priced them at a very agreeable price: $9.99. This is always nice for an author to know that her/his books are easily available to interested readers.

Other exciting news: Barnes & Noble have chosen the book as a NOOK BOOK FIRST. Check it out!

OKAY, WordPress has changed the manner someone can add links or images. I will add to this blog tomorrow with the desired book image and links…

Sigh….

Girl Brutally Gang-Raped in Delhi; Outpouring of Indian Women's Rage!

Reblogged from THE 50 MILLION MISSING CAMPAIGN BLOG ON INDIA'S FEMALE GENDERCIDE:

New Delhi, December 2012 

On December 16, a 23-year-old woman returning home with her boyfriend after seeing a movie, was brutally assaulted in a moving bus in New Delhi by seven men.  She was gang-raped and physically assaulted for over an hour with an iron rod.  She's currently battling for her life in a hospital in the country's capital.  Her intestines were badly ruptured in addition to a number of other injuries, and she has undergone numerous surgeries already.

Read more… 315 more words

One of the best and most important blogs there is. I recommend that everyone who cares about other human beings to follow this blog.

Afghanistan: Can we make a difference? MAHBOBA’S PROMISE

A forum discussion on preparing for peace and progress for Afghanistan as international troops leave. Mahboba’s Promise in partnership with the Sydney Peace Foundation and Sydney University’s Centre for Peace and Conflict Studies, hosts a forum with distinguished guest speakers. Ambassador Nasir Andisha, Afghanistan’s Ambassador to Australia and a Fulbright Scholar. Yalda Hakim, well known journalist and presenter of SBS Dateline, escaped from Afghanistan as a child. Major General (Ret’d) Jim Molan AO DSC, a retired major-general of the Australian armed forces, awarded Australian Thinker of the Year 2009. Professor Amin Saikal AM,is a Professor at ANU’s Centre for Arab and Islamic Studies. Maryam Totakhail,has firsthand experience of the trials of being born a woman in Afghanistan’s complex culture. Moderated by Jessie Taylor BA(Hons) LLB (Hons) Msc (HA), barrister at the Victorian Bar, refugee advocate and co-creator of the film ‘Between the Devil & the Deep Blue Sea’. The Hon Dr Mike Kelly AM MP, Parliamentary Secretary for Defence will wrap-up the forum and summarise Government’s plans for assistance to Afghanistan after the troop withdrawal.

The above event will be held at the Footbridge Theatre at Sydney University on Wednesday October 17, 2012 at 6:30 PM.  If you are in Sydney, please try to attend.  If you are not in Sydney, you can follow the event at http://www.mahbobaspromise.org

After reading about this event, you might feel that you would like to help Afghan women and children.  If so, you can donatedirectly  to Mahboba’s Promise, a well established organization that devotes their energy to helping suffering women and children in Afghanistan.

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Maryam Totakhail,one of the panel members, is my Afghan heroine in the book I wrote about her life, titled:  FOR THE LOVE OF A SON.

Maryam’s true story

 

From the first day I came to know Maryam, I could see that she cares deeply for her country and for her people.  That’s why she is going to take time out of an extremely busy life to travel from Jeddah, Saudi Arabia to Sydney, Australia to appear on the MAHBOBA’S PROMISE  panel to discuss important points about Afghanistan’s future once the international armies depart Afghanistan.  It is the wish of all who care for the people of Afghanistan that the country avoid dissolving into chaos.  (This occurred when Russia was defeated and left the country at which time the various warlords began fighting the other, starting a vicious civil war that killed so many innocent Afghan men, women & children.)

Although Maryam is concerned about the fate of all Afghan people, she is most disturbed about the continued suffering of women and children.  She wants to help in any way possible.   Here’s my chance to wish Maryam every success in this very important cause.

 

Maryam signing books

 

Here’s a note from Maryam about the event in Australia: 

Maryam Totakhail supporting widows & orphans in Afghanistan

I would like to introduce myself.  My name is Maryam Totakhail.  I am an Afghan American who was born and raised in Afghanistan before having to flee my country to the United States.  There is a book about my life, titled For the Love of a Son, written by an internationally known author, Jean Sasson. The book covers my childhood in Afghanistan and reveals the truth of the enormous difficulties all Afghan people faced during the times of trouble.  I now live in Jeddah, Saudi Arabia and I am the mother of two sons.

So you see, I know about suffering, but sadly, there are those who suffer more.  But there are those to spend their lives helping to alleviate suffering.  I want to tell you about such a woman.

This woman is named Mahboba.  I had the pleasure to meet Mahboba through a very special lady named Mary who had read the book about my life.

Mahboba is a humanitarian and a global citizen whose life’s work has vastly improved the lives of thousands of women and children.  Quite simply, Mahboba is one of those remarkable women who refuses to ignore the suffering of others.  Her great work has linked many people and organizations in the Australian community.  She works hard, sacrifices much, and gives of herself, not only to her adopted country, but also to the country of her birth.  The more I discover about Mahboba, the more I admire her.  I know that you will admire her, too.

I felt honored to hear from Mary and Mahboba when they contacted me with an invitation to be a guest speaker at Mahboba’s Promise at the November fundraiser in Sydney, Australia.  I knew immediately that the fundraiser would be a very special event and that I wanted to be a part of this very extraordinary occasion.  I do so hope that you can join us at the great event which is to be held on October 17, 2012 in  Sydney, Australia.

I also hope that you can contribute to this great cause.  Your contribution will mean so much to so many.  Mahboba’s Promise organization feeds, clothes, houses and educates Afghan children in Afghanistan.  At this time, her sponsorship program continues to grow and is now supporting 171 widows and 247 children.  The assistance given to these people has a ripple impact, affecting so many family members, and making it possible for the impoverished to eat, to attend school, and to obtain jobs.  Anything you can do to help will be appreciated.

All donations are utilized to buy goods, books, clothes, generators and to hire teachers in Afghanistan.  Please send your contribution to Mahboba’s Promise.

Executive Officer  Mahboba’s Promise, Inc. www.mahbobaspromise.org 

With kind regards, I am Maryam Totakhail, and I thank you.

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NOTE FROM JEAN SASSON:

Recently I chatted with Maryam and told her that I believed the readers of her life story would like to know how she is doing.  For sure, once a book is written about anyone, their life changes forever.  Therefore, I posed twelve questions to Maryam and here is that interview.

The Author of FOR THE LOVE OF A SON, interviews the heroine of the book: 

1)    Maryam, tell us how your life has changed since FOR THE LOVE OF A SON was published:

I would like to say that to tell my story to another person felt as if I was going through therapy.  There were many long hours talking over the phone and hundreds of e-mails going back and forth.  All the trauma, conflict and the hidden emotion came out of me as I talked about my life and then witnessed the beauty of my story emerging on paper.

My life has definitely changed since the book was published.  So many people have responded to the book.  From the first day I have received e-mails, telephone calls, and other communications from women and men from around world. Some readers simply want to thank me, just as Mrs. Hillary Clinton thanked me in a formal letter from her offices.  There are others who would like to meet me.  Others say that they would like to give me a hug.  Such kindness brings tears to my eyes and happiness to my heart. All who have contacted me will never know how grateful I am to learn that my life story touched their lives.

I have also feel a lot of contentment to know that so many people care about someone they do not know.  All the ugliness in the world is being defeated by such goodness.

For example, I receive many texts from a young twenty-four year old man who felt so badly for my situation.  He wants to make me feel better.  He does this by addressing me by the name of Mano.  My lost son, who was later found, used to call me Mano.  A young lady from India calls me just to hear my voice.  I even receive telephone calls from Afghanistan, and believe me, it is not easy to call out of Afghanistan!  A nice Afghan man called me to say that his own mother weeps because she says her life now, is just like my life was when I was beaten and abused and lost my son.  His mother knows that so many women in Afghanistan suffer, as we have suffered.

So, the book definitely changed my life for the better.  Most tell me how much it means to them that my life story was written and is now available for the world to read.  These people say that they feel through my own story that the world is hearing about their story, too.  This is such a blessing for all.  My story has given so many women a voice and for that I am very happy.

2)    As an Afghan woman raised and educated in Afghanistan, what do you think needs to happen in your country so that women can be free to participate in public life?

The entire world knows that Afghan women have been deprived for so long.  The cultural “tribal laws” are what keep women in bondage.  I believe, as many others, that education is the key to women’s empowerment.

When Afghan women have the right to be educated, she will have the ability to work and to earn money.  She will learn to speak up to the men in the family.  That’s when the tribal laws will be abolished; albeit slowly.

3)   What can be done to stop the mental and physical abuse of so many Afghan women?

Do you know that 90% of the women in Afghanistan are illiterate?  This makes them feel hopeless and they feel they have no choice but to accept the physical and mental abuses inflicted by their men, and by society.  Therefore, women must be empowered!

Empowering women comes about from education, national stability, and the abolishment of poverty.  None of these are easy things to do in a landscape like my country of Afghanistan, but it can happen.  Education and knowledge will bring women to a point when they feel strong enough to push for change, so that they have a choice how they live. Once the women have hope, they will gain confidence. Mothers will feel like confronting their husbands over the welfare of their daughters.  This will take several generations, but it can be done.

I believe that once women can help themselves that the entire society will improve.  Even the men will be mentally happier, I believe, when they are no longer in a position of creating so much anguish.

4)   Did the American & English military presence in Afghanistan help or hurt your country?

Jean, this is a hard and sensitive question.

I may surprise you by saying that my answer is yes and no.

YES:  First if all, the most important thing is that the American and the British militaries (accompanied by other countries who wanted to help the Afghan people) forced the Taliban and the foreigner fighters under the banner of Al-Qaeda to give up control of Afghanistan and leave the country, at least for a time.  This was a good thing for these two organizations were destroying the beauty of life for the Afghan people.

NO:  Sadly, the presence of foreign armies from America and England and other countries failed in that there is still no peace in the land.  Only in Kabul can Afghan citizens live peacefully.

I believe, as do others, that the reason for the failure to achieve peace is unemployment and poverty.  These huge problems were ignored.  If there is no food on the table, there will be chaos and violence.  After 9/11, the main focus was on finding Osama binladen and other members of his organization.  Once the Taliban and members of Al-Qaeda were on the run and no longer in charge of the country, the emphasis should have been to rebuild the shattered country, and to make certain there were jobs.  People would have been contented with that solution and would not have later turned to criminal organizations to seek money to support their families.

It is frightening now to see that the Taliban is once again gaining power.  Because of poverty, the Taliban is becoming very successful in recruiting poor Afghan men to their cause.  The country will return to total chaos if the Taliban comes back to rule.

5)   What can America and the other countries still involved in Afghanistan do differently that will help your country?

It is not too late.  As an Afghan woman who has lived inside and outside Afghanistan, I believe that the country desperately needs a civil presence, not a military presence.

At this point, I would urge the countries who want to help Afghan people to send engineers, doctors, teachers, and even farmers to help the people on important things like education and the economy. (While there are some ongoing projects to help the economy prosper, there is not enough to make a difference.)

There is no need to spend any more money focusing on the Taliban, basically, playing hide and seek with them.  Because of these efforts, so many Afghan people are caught in the middle.  Many are killed (just as American soldiers are being killed).

Really, a simple way to put it is for those who want to help Afghanistan, please send economic help, not military help.  Books, not guns!

6)   Corruption seems to be an enormous problem in Afghanistan, and in other countries in the region.  What steps should be taken to stop corruption. 

Unfortunately, you are right.  Corruption is a huge problem.

People are so poor in my country.  The inflation is very high while salaries are extremely low.

Even an employed civil servant cannot maintain a decent life.  These civil servants are the ones running the country.  But they are desperate to provide basic necessities for their families.  So when they have a chance to make extra money, they feel they cannot turn it down.  It would be a big step in the right direction to restrain corruption if wages could be increased.

7)   Readers of the book about your life discovered that your father greatly loved his country.  What do you think your father would say about the situation happening today in Afghanistan? 

My father would have been not happy to live to see his beloved Afghanistan invaded by yet another foreign force.  I can close my eyes and hear him now.  He would have said, “No matter what, we Afghans want to live in a free country.”

8)   What woman in Afghanistan today do you think can make a difference in your society?

I believe that we need more than one woman to make a difference.  We need all our women!   In an old book of thoughts, it says that behind every successful man there is a woman.

I say, behind a prosperous country there are educated woman!

I cannot stress this enough:  The status of women is so very important. A woman is the center and the strength of her family.

If all Afghan women have the opportunity to obtain a good education and the support of her family, then I believe that our Afghan society will be peaceful and prosperous.  Afghan women are the key holders to a great Afghanistan. An educated Afghan woman will be a better mother to her child, a better wife to her husband, and a better leader to her country.

9)   What can the average American citizen do to help the women of Afghanistan reach a status of respect and dignity in their own country and culture?

I lived in America a long time.  I discovered that the average American person is very compassionate and kind.  Yet, all Americans need to be more involved in the decision making as to where American tax dollars go.  There have been billions of dollars spent in Afghanistan, and many American soldiers have lost their lives.  (As have the English and other countries, I am sad to say.) At the end of the day, Afghanistan is still a wreck after huge sums of money have been spent and after many lives have been lost.

If the governments currently helping my country would invest in rebuilding hospital, schools, roads, and factories, you would see a miracle.  The citizens of Afghanistan would turn against the Taliban and other foreign organization who like to make mischief in my country.   That’s when the average Afghan would begin to see the foreigners in their country as peacemakers, there to build and not destroy.  That’s when respect would come.  Tragically, the foreign military presence from countries who want to bring peace has actually brought more damage into the country.  Since 2001, over 2,000 Afghan children die each year as a result of the fighting between foreign military forces and the Taliban.  This is a great waste and a great pity.

10)  Tell us a little something about the upcoming event (Mahboba’s Promise Panel at Sydney University) in Australia that you are going to attend and be a member of the panel.  What do you hope to accomplish?

I’m very happy and honored to be a participant for the October 17, 2012 Afghan event in Sydney, Australia.  This meeting is very important because there will be a forum to discuss how Afghanistan can prepare for peace and progress once the international troops depart the country.

The foundation hosting the event was founded by Mahboba Rawi.  She is an Afghan woman who has been working to help Afghan women and Afghan children who are orphans.  She is doing important work and I am pleased to be a part of this.

The event will provide funds for Afghan the women and children to have a better tomorrow.

11) Although I (Jean Sasson) wrote your story, FOR THE LOVE OF A SON, I know that you are working on a book yourself.  Tell the readers of your life story something about this book you are writing and also, what you hope to accomplish by writing this book.

For the past thirty years Afghan children have only seen conflict.  Afghan children have never known peace.  War and violence has created massive uncertainty in the lives of all the Afghan people.  As a result of never-ending war, Afghan children have been subjected to the horrors of human trafficking, forced child labor, and forced child prostitution.

Since I moved to Saudi Arabia sixteen years ago, I have personally witnessed young Afghan children begging in the streets of Jeddah.

As a mother, and as an Afghan woman, I was compelled to find out why those children were begging in the streets of a foreign country to them.  The Afghan children are MY people.  I wanted to help.  Finally I decided that their lives were a story that the world should know about.  So I started talking to these children and interviewing them.  As time passed, I went to their homes and talked to their mothers.  The stories are amazing.  Let’s not forget that although they may be beggars, the mothers and their children are like the rest of us, human beings who experience hope and fear.

I long for these children to have a home, to eat full meals, to know what it is to be safe, and to receive an education.

Hopefully I can help this to happen.

12)  Readers will want to know the answer to this question:  How is your relationship with Big Duran, your eldest son?

I am happy that my son Big Duran is a college student and is studying.

Sadly, after the book about my life was published, I have had very little contact with my son.  I was told that my son’s father has forbidden him from contacting me.

This is very difficult for me, his mother.  I missed my son for so many years, and then found him, but my dreams of a close and good relationship with my son did not come true.

Thank you, Maryam, for your very thoughtful and well-informed responses.  Hopefully someone in power will read this interview and realize that you are very knowledgeable about your country and that your suggestions for solutions could help the women and children of Afghanistan.  I am also sad and sorry that your relationship with your son is not what you would like for it to be.  I know how much you love both your sons, and I hope that the future will bring a wonderful result with your older son.  Lastly, I am very proud that you are working hard to help others.  I wish you every success with your book writing project about the Afghan children beggars in Saudi Arabia.  I am sure that your interest in those children will do much to help them in their very tough lives.

Changing plans: writing my latest book

Sometimes carefully laid out plans made are meant to be changed.

Life’s straight lines are too often blurred by situations we didn’t plan to confront.

Let me explain.

A few months ago I was happily writing “Squirrel on my Head and Puppy in my Pocket.”  This animal memoir details the many thrilling adventures I have experienced while rescuing abused animals as well as being the “mother” of 40 animal babies.  (A baby I rescued last year just happened to be a tiny baby squirrel.  I raised her to be self-reliant and she is now living in the trees, as squirrels should, although I would prefer that she be living in my house!) You can see a cute photo below of Princess playing with one of her little toys.  She was very pampered, and followed my every step, thinking I was her mommy.  I miss her still and everytime it storms, I think about my little squirrel baby and hope that she remains safe.

Princess Sasson, baby squirrel

Animals bring such joy to our lives, but there were lots of stresses too, for along the way I met some unsavory characters who used animals for profit, resulting in the most horrific abuses upon those animals.  Such situations tear away at my heart and soul, for I have the kind of attachment to animals that puts me directly into their world.  I feel that I’m in their little furry bodies, seeing what they are seeing and feeling what they are feeling.  When animals suffer, I suffer.  I feel myself to be that animal.  That’s why I can’t turn away from animal suffering, because I FEEL what they are feeling.

 

 

Paris Sasson — abandoned and mistreated kitty kat being treated by doctor

 

I know that sounds a bit bizarre, but that’s just the way it is.

In the middle of writing this animal memoir about my life of loving animals, I sat down on the morning of May 25th to pick up the story when something unexplainable occurred.  A woman took over my mind, and by that I don’t mean to imply that I had an out of body experience, but the memory of a courageous woman who had survived the most horrific ordeal imaginable came to me, and without thinking about it, I found myself opening up a new file on my computer.  I tentatively titled it “The Prison Circus” and I started to write.  It was as though my brain could no longer hold on to the story, and the memories came to me and my fingers started moving and before I knew it, I had seven pages typed.  (I consider five good pages a day to be a day of successful writing.) And those seven pages were nearly flawless.  (Like most writers, I generally sweat over every sentence, reworking them time and again, but the seven pages were just as they should be.)

From that moment, I stuck with the “The Prison Circus” writing a tension filled story about one of the most courageous women I’ve ever met–and believe me, I have met some brave women during my years of travel and writing–if you have read any of my books, then you have read about these women.

While writing this story about a woman who overcame challenges you will find hard to imagine, my heart told me that it was one of the most important books I would ever write.

And now the book is nearly finished and I wait to see if one woman’s story of survival against all odds, is as important and compelling as I believe it to be.

So much of a writing career is waiting.  And so I wait, hoping that others will feel the importance of a story I’ve never been able to get out of my mind.

 

 

 

 

 

 

PRINCESS SULTANA – your replies to her question

Thanks to everyone of you who responded in such a positive manner.  You have my apologies that it took me so long to get back with you.  As I have mentioned, I am finishing my 11th book (YES!) and I have been chained to my computer chair for the past four months and have barely done anything else.

But this morning I did read ALL the responses to the question posed by Princess Sultana.

I have cut and pasted all your comments and am now in the process of sending those to her daughter.  I don’t know how she will resist connecting with the readers of her story after reading the most wonderful replies from all of you.

I will let you know within the next few weeks what her plans are.

Meanwhile, I appreciate all the feedback and I know that she will, too!

For now, have a most happy day!  Jean

 

 

For the past year I have been attempting to convince Princess Sultana to join the world wide web by posting, or having a FB page or tweeting.  I believe that she would enjoy having this kind of contact with other women who are working on the same issues that have so affected her life.  Although it is difficult for her to post when she is in the kingdom as there are government spies monitoring all Saudis, (even the royals) and most particularly Saudi women, she does spend a lot of time in Europe and in California, and during those jaunts she would be free to post.

At this time her eldest daughter sometimes responds on her mother’s behalf (with her mother’s permission) but I’m all for the Princess coming out of her shell, at least as much as possible, and having directly contact.

She wondered if anyone would be interested if she blogged or tweeted and I have assured her that they would.

What do you say?  Would you be interested in following the tweets of Princess Sultana? If so, let me know and I’ll pass the word.

Everyone dies.

There are few things that human beings know with absolute certainty, but one truth that we can say in a variety of ways is:  Everyone dies.  No one has gotten off this earth alive.  Death will come to all of us, you, me, and everyone we know.  That about covers it!

I’m not fond of death, as I’ve noticed that everyone who dies didn’t want to die.  Another sad fact is that everyone who dies leaves behind a lot of very sad people.

Perhaps we are not prepared to die, or accept death is because death comes too soon.  If life didn’t seem so short, perhaps we would be more understanding of leaving life on this earth.

Who will say that they have enough time to accomplish all they want or need to accomplish?  Lately I’ve found myself wishing that a normal life span could be at least 200  years!  What couldn’t we do with 200 years?  That would give us 100 years to learn something, gain some wisdom, another 50 to work and do some good for the rest of the world, and perhaps the last 50 to kick back and do the things we most enjoy.  Another big blessing would be to have the chance to meet our great grandparents and great great grandparents and great great great grandparents.  I do a lot of research on my family and gosh, those folks that came before me surely did seem nice.  I wish I could sit and chat with them, show them my book collection, and chat about how life was without electricity or automobiles or televisions or computers.  Wouldn’t those folks love the chance to experience this modern world of ours?

Born with a double dose of the happy gene (yes there is a happy gene, according to science), I love my life and enjoy nearly every moment of it.  Not that I don’t have problems.  All people do.  But when I hear or think about the horrors that too often visit other people, I thank God for my good fortune and suddenly my problems seem minor by comparison.  For example, I’m plagued with worry for the Syrian people who are running for their lives.  Little children are losing their parents.  Parents are losing their children.  Such pain I cannot imagine.

So I cannot complain.  I’m living as safe as one can live.  I’m happy.  I feel good.  I enjoy my work and I believe that my work is of value.  I have family whom I love and family who loves me.  I have friends who are as dear to me as family.  I’ve always been an animal lover and animals have given me tremendous joy.

I haven’t admitted to anyone now that I’ve been thinking about death a lot lately.  Then out of the blue, a good friend from New York just sent me this piece written by the fabulously talented writer Nora Ephron, a woman who will be greatly missed by many, a woman who just died prematurely.  Her writing is about aging and facing death…  Like everything she did, this very talented writer makes you feel better about all aspects of life, including anticipating the end.  (Nora Ephron, who died on Tuesday aged 71, was the award-winning screenwriter whose credits include When Harry Met Sally and Sleepless In Seattle. In recent years, she also wrote two books of witty and poignant essays about ageing. Here, she faces her own mortality.)

BY NORA EPHRON:

‘The honest truth is that it’s sad to be over 60,’ said Nora Ephron When I turned 60, I had a big birthday party in Las Vegas, which happens to be one of my top five places. We spent the weekend eating and drinking and gambling and having fun. We all made some money and screamed and yelled and I went to bed deliriously happy. The spell lasted for several days, and as a result, I managed to avoid thinking about what it all meant. Denial has been a way of life for me for many years. I actually believe in denial. It seemed to me that the only way to deal with a birthday of this sort was to do everything possible to push it from my mind. Nothing else about me is better than it was at 50, or 40, or 30, but I definitely have the best haircut I’ve ever had, I like my new apartment, and, as the expression goes, consider the alternative.

I have been 60 for four years now, and by the time you read this I will probably have been 60 for five. I survived turning 60, I was not thrilled to turn 61, I was less thrilled to turn 62, I didn’t much like being 63, I loathed being 64, and I will hate being 65. I don’t let on about such things in person; in person, I am cheerful and Pollyanna-ish. But the honest truth is that it’s sad to be over 60. The long shadows are everywhere ­ friends dying and battling illness. A miasma of melancholy hangs there, forcing you to deal with the fact that your life, however happy and successful, has been full of disappointments and mistakes, little ones and big ones. There are dreams that are never quite going to come true, ambitions that will never quite be realised. There are, in short, regrets. Edith Piaf was famous for singing a song called ‘Non, je ne regrette rien’. It’s a good song. I know what she meant. I can get into it; I can make a case that I regret nothing. After all, most of my mistakes turned out to be things I survived, or turned into funny stories, or, on occasion, even made money from. But the truth is that je regrette beaucoup. Why do people say it’s better to be older than to be younger? It’s not better. Even if you have all your marbles, you’re constantly reaching for the name of the person you met the day before yesterday. Even if you’re in great shape, you can’t chop an onion the way you used to and you can’t ride a bicycle several miles without becoming a candidate for traction. If you work, you’re surrounded by young people who are plugged into the marketplace, the demographic, the zeitgeist; they want your job and someday soon they’re going to get it. If you’re fortunate enough to be in a sexual relationship, you’re not going to have the sex you once had. Plus, you can’t wear a bikini. Oh, how I regret not having worn a bikini for the entire year I was 26. If anyone young is reading this, go, right this minute, put on a bikini, and don’t take it off until you’re 34.

A magazine editor called me the other day, an editor who, like me, is over 60. Her magazine was going to do an issue on Age, and she wanted me to write something for it. We began to talk about the subject, and she said, ‘You know what drives me nuts? Why do women our age say, “In my day…”? This is our day.’ But it isn’t our day. It’s their day. We’re just hanging on. We can’t wear tank tops, we have no idea who 50 Cent is, and we don’t know how to use almost any of the functions on our mobile phones. If we hit the wrong button on the remote control and the television screen turns to snow, we have no idea how to get the television set back to where it was in the first place. (This is the true nightmare of the empty nest: your children are gone, and they were the only people in the house who knew how to use the remote control.) Technology is a bitch. I can no longer even work out how to get the buttons on the car radio to play my favourite stations. The gears on my bicycle mystify me. On my bicycle! And thank God no one has given me a digital wristwatch. In fact, if any of my friends are reading this, please don’t ever give me a digital anything. Just the other day I went shopping at a store in Los Angeles that happens to stock jeans that actually come all the way up to my waist, and I was stunned to discover that the customer just before me was Nancy Reagan. That’s how old I am: Nancy Reagan and I shop in the same store.

Anyway, I said to this editor, ‘You’re wrong, you are so wrong, this is not our day, this is their day.’ But she was undaunted. She said to me, ‘Well then, I have another idea: Why don’t you write about Age Shame?’ I said to her, ‘Get someone who is only 50 to write about Age Shame. I am way past Age Shame, if I ever had it. I’m just happy to be here at all.’ We are a generation that has learned to believe we can do something about almost everything. We are active ­ hell, we are proactive. We are positive thinkers. We have the power. We will take any suggestion seriously. If a pill will help, we will take it. If being in the Zone will help, we will enter the Zone. When we hear about the latest ludicrously expensive face cream that is alleged to turn back the clock, we will go out and buy it even though we know that the last five face creams we fell for were completely ineffectual. We will do crossword puzzles to ward off Alzheimer’s and eat six almonds a day to ward off cancer; we will scan ourselves to find whatever can be nipped in the bud. We are in control. Behind the wheel. On the cutting edge. We make lists. We seek out the options. We surf the net. But there are some things that are absolutely, definitively, entirely uncontrollable. I am dancing around the D word, but I don’t mean to be coy. When you cross into your 60s, your odds of dying ­ or of merely getting horribly sick on the way to dying ­ spike.

Death is a sniper. It strikes people you love, people you like, people you know, it’s everywhere. You could be next. But then you turn out not to be. But then again you could be. And meanwhile, your friends die, and you’re left not just bereft, not just grieving, not just guilty, but utterly helpless. There is nothing you can do. Nothing. Everybody dies. Here are some questions I am constantly fretting over: Do you splurge or do you hoard? Do you live every day as if it’s your last, or do you save your money on the chance you’ll live 20 more years? Is life too short, or is it going to be too long? Do you work as hard as you can, or do you slow down to smell the roses? And where do carbohydrates fit into all this? Are we really going to have to spend our last years avoiding bread, especially now that bread is so unbelievably delicious? And what about chocolate?

My friend Judy died last year. She was the person I told everything to. She was my best friend, my extra sister, my true mother, sometimes even my daughter. She was all these things, and one day she called up to say, the weirdest thing has happened, there’s a lump on my tongue. Less than a year later, she was dead. She was 66 years old. She had no interest in dying, right to the end. She died horribly. And now she’s gone. I think of her every day, sometimes six or seven times a day. I have her white cashmere shawl. I wore it for days after her death; I wrapped myself up in it; I even slept in it. But now I can’t bear to wear it because it feels as if that’s all there is left of my Judy. I want to talk to her. I want to have lunch with her. I want her to give me a book she just read and loved. She is my phantom limb, and I can’t believe I’m here without her. A few months before they found the lump on her tongue, Judy and I went out to lunch to celebrate a friend’s birthday. It had been a difficult year: barely a week had passed without some terrible news about someone’s health. ‘Death doesn’t really feel eventual or inevitable. It still feels…avoidable somehow,’ said Judy. I said at lunch, what are we going to do about this? Shouldn’t we talk about this? This is what our lives have become. Death is everywhere. How do we deal with it? Our birthday friend said, oh, please, let’s not be morbid. Yes. Let’s not be morbid. Let’s not. On the other hand, I meant to have a conversation with Judy about death.

Before either of us was sick or dying. I meant to have one of those straightforward conversations where you discuss What You Want in the eventuality ­ well, I say ‘the eventuality’, but that’s one of the oddest things about this whole subject. Death doesn’t really feel eventual or inevitable. It still feels . . . avoidable somehow. But it’s not. We know in one part of our brains that we are all going to die, but on some level we don’t quite believe it. But I meant to have that conversation with Judy, so that when the inevitable happened we would know what our intentions were, so that we could help each other die in whatever way we wanted to die. But of course, once they found the lump, there was no having the conversation. Living wills are much easier to draft when you are living instead of possibly dying; they’re the ultimate hypotheticals. And what difference would it have made if we’d had that conversation? Before you get sick, you have absolutely no idea of how you’re going to feel once you do. You can imagine you’ll be brave, but it’s just as possible you’ll be terrified. You can hope that you’ll find a way to accept death, but you could just as easily end up raging against it.

The day before my friend Henry died, he asked to be brought a large brown folder he kept in his office. In it were love letters he had received when he was younger. He sent them back to the women who’d written them, wrote them all lovely notes, and destroyed the rest. What’s more, he left complete, detailed instructions for his funeral, including the music he wanted ­ all of this laid out explicitly in a file on his computer he called ‘Exit’. I so admire Henry and the way he handled his death. It’s inspirational. And yet I can’t quite figure out how any of it applies. For one thing, I have managed to lose all my love letters. Not that there were that many. And if I ever found them and sent them back to the men who wrote them to me, I promise you they would be completely mystified. I haven’t heard from any of these men in years, and on the evidence, they all seem to have done an extremely good job of getting over me. As for instructions for my funeral, I suppose I could come up with a few.  For example, if there’s a reception afterward, I know what sort of food I would like served: those little finger sandwiches from this place on Lexington Avenue called William Poll. And champagne would be nice. I love champagne. It’s so festive. But otherwise, I don’t have a clue. I haven’t even worked out whether I want to be buried or cremated ­ largely because I’ve always worried that cremation in some way lowers your chances of being reincarnated. (If there is such a thing.) (Which I know there isn’t.) (And yet . . .)

And meanwhile, here we are. What is to be done? I don’t know. I hope that’s clear. In a few minutes I will have finished writing this piece, and I will go back to life itself. Squirrels have made a hole in the roof, and we don’t quite know what to do about it. Soon it will rain; we should probably take the cushions inside. I need more bath oil. And that reminds me to say something about bath oil. I use this bath oil I happen to love. It’s called Dr Hauschka’s lemon bath. It costs about £15 a bottle, which is enough for about two weeks of baths if you follow the instructions. The instructions say one capful per bath. But a capful gets you nowhere. A capful is not enough. I have known this for a long time. But if the events of the last few years have taught me anything, it’s that I’m going to feel like an idiot if I die tomorrow and I skimped on bath oil today. So I use quite a lot of bath oil. More than you could ever imagine. After I take a bath, my bathtub is as dangerous as an oil slick. But thanks to the bath oil, I’m as smooth as silk. I am going out to buy more, right now. Goodbye.