When I read the obits yesterday of the daughters of two famous politicians, I was happy to be 64. Kara Kennedy Allen, whose dad was Senator Edward M. Kennedy, died last Friday of a heart attack. A filmmaker, she was 51 and had been diagnosed with lung cancer in 2002, which was in remission.

Eleanor Poling, whose dad was former Vice President Walter F. Mondale, died Saturday of brain cancer, which she’s been battling since 2005. A former radio and TV personality, she, too, was 51.

Eleanor Mondale Poling in 1999

The commonalities are astounding and so sad. How horrible to be diagnosed with any cancer, no less such horrible cancers, in your forties, when life holds so much promise.

I remember thinking how poised and beautiful Eleanor was in 1984, when she worked for her father’s presidential campaign.  She married three times and had no children. “A great spirit, a lot of courage. She fought [cancer] almost six years now, and never a whimper,” dad Walter said.

Unlike her dad, Kara was more comfortable behind a camera, rather than in front of it, her obit related. “But like him, I found my greatest fulfillment in showing the needs and successes of others,” she wrote in an article. She produced a number of videos for Very Special Arts, an organization for people with disabilities. Her brother, Patrick, said her two children were “the most important things in her whole life.”

It is insane that any of us ever complains about getting older. We simply don’t have any guarantees we’ll even become older, so if we do (without too much heartache and tragedy), we’re damn lucky. Damn lucky!

Do you ever do things for others, even if it inconveniences you?

To wit:

Do you ever stay late at the office to help finish something that’s important to your boss, even though your husband expects you home to make dinner?

Do you ever accept a friend’s dinner invitation, even though you ‘re bone tired and would rather veg out at home alone?

Do you ever stop an important task to comfort a co-worker who is feeling low?

Do you ever travel out of your way, physically or mentally, to visit a  friend who is laid up?

Do you ever let someone have something you really wanted?

Do you ever give someone something you cherish because it will give them great pleasure?

Do you ever let someone else take the credit for something you did because they need the credit more than you do?

Do you ever accept a job from an employee that you consider mediocre because you know how hard he worked on it?

Do you ever help someone get on her feet financially, even though you’re a bit strapped yourself?

Do you ever offer to help finish a big project, even though it’s not part of your job description?

Do you really know yourself?  Do you ever stop to think about your actions, or inactions, and how they affect others, or do you spend most of your time thinking how everything and everyone affects you?

I saw myself flying through the air, moments before I landed, face down, on the sidewalk. I felt my glasses leave my head right before I made contact with the ground, and my iPhone flew out of my hand. Two couples walking behind me rushed over to see if I was ok. I was nonplussed but nothing seemed to be broken–including my glasses– and I got up from the ground unaided.

My left knee, hand, cheekbone and upper lip were pretty bruised, but my teeth and bones were unharmed. Apparently, I used my right hand to break the fall, because it swelled dramatically and is black and blue. I can move the wrist but the thumb is stiff.

A few people advised me to rush to the doctor for x-rays,  but I’m  certain nothing is broken. I look vaguely like Marlon Brando after a fight On The Waterfront, but no matter. My cheek, jaw and wrist bones are intact and I didn’t poke my eye out. And what if I had crashed head first onto the cement sidewalk and died? My dear friend, Elline, cautioned me about a blood clot in my right hand, so I will go to a doc if the swelling doesn’t go down by Tuesday.

So here’s the moral of my story: When you’re walking, walk. Don’t  read and write emails, talk on the phone or concentrate on 50 other things. I was doing it all and walking Rigby at the same time. Another blessing: The leash never left my hand. If it had, Rigby most certainly would have made a b line for the nearest cat or NYC rodent and we’d probably never see him again.

I count my blessings not my bruises.

PS the only thing I wish I had broken was my nose so I could have had a free nose job.

FOFs are the beauty industry’s most important customers, but no one has ever produced a beauty event just for us.  Till now! The FOF Beauty Bash is bringing together the smartest, savviest and strongest players in the beauty business to give you a first-hand beat on the products, procedures and people that will keep us looking good.

I hope you can make it.  If you do, please make sure to find me so we can meet.

oxo, Geri