FOF Maria is Brazilian and lived with her Amercian businessman husband in a tony Connecticut suburb. When he died, at 50,  Maria decided to stay in Connecticut. Now she lives there with a European man.

A decade ago, Maria underwent numerous surgeries on her scalp to remove skin cancer. Happily, she’s been cancer free ever since. Not surprisingly, the cancer caused her to reevaluate her priorities.

Maria is currently thinking of moving back to Rio de Janeiro, which she considers her real home. Although her son lives in Chicago with his family, her sisters and close friends live in Brazil, where people care for one another with an intensity that does not exist in America, Maria told me. Also, Maria’s Connecticut home does not give her easy access to Manhattan, which she needs more and more as she and her companion drive less and less.When I asked if she’ll miss her grandchildren when she moves, Maria answered: “I hope they come to Brazil to learn another language and a new culture.”

Like FOFs all over the country, if not the world, Maria wants to surround herself with the people she loves, in an embracing environment. We no longer have patience for creepy people and alienating places.

I had dinner last night with FOFriend, neighbor and brilliant writer, Linda, and we talked about everything under the sun–from her recent visit with her stepson in Oregon to the book she’s writing. The conversation was especially lively when we started discussing men. Linda’s husband, the love of her life, died six years ago and she hasn’t met a guy who comes close to having his appeal and intelligence. When Linda mentioned that she and her husband had been friendly with Betty Friedan, I chimed in: “I dated a man 10 years ago who was also Betty’s friend. His name was Dick um…..”

My FOF friend Linda

Linda's good friend, feminist Betty Friedan

“Loring?” Linda asked. (not his real name)

“Oh my god, yes,” I said.

“He was my husband’s close friend. I’ve known him for 40 years,” Linda responded.

I filled Linda in on how Dick and I met when I was 54 and he was 80. “Our age difference was too great,” I told her. Then Linda gave me a Dick update: “He’s 90 and doing well. As a matter of fact, we had dinner together last week,” she said.

I was glad to hear Dick is in good shape and involved with a woman.

The world isn’t small. It’s miniscule.

A FOFriend recently learned that her octogenarian mother has breast cancer and will undergo a mastectomy. My friend intends to visit her mom every weekend during her recuperation. The trip will take about four hours each way. It’s what any wonderful daughter would do.

I often chat with my sisters and pals about what we’d want our adult children to do if we took ill. I always say I’d feel uncomfortable taking them away from their families, jobs and homes. Of course, I’d want to see them as often as possible, and hope they’d call every day for a few minutes, but I wouldn’t see the point of disrupting their lives on a continuous basis.

Some children leave their families and jobs to live with a sick parent. Others move their parents in with them, if they have the space. It’s never an easy decision for anyone, no matter how close they are. After my great grandmother had a stroke, her daughter (my grandmother) moved her into a nursing home close to where she lived. Grandma visited her mom every single day, and often returned with my grandfather after dinner. Grandma wouldn’t have had it any other way. Yet when she had a heart attack, her daughter (my mother) only spent two days with her.

I once had a cancer scare, which I  didn’t tell my children about until after the surgery. Fortunately, everything was clean. My children were bothered that I kept quiet through the ordeal. They aren’t doctors, I told them, so I didn’t think they’d could do anything to help at that stage. Why worry them, too?  Sitting by my side wasn’t an option, as far as I was concerned.

A 64-year-old man went into cardiac arrest and died  yesterday while he was competing in a  NYC triathlon, days away from celebrating his 42nd wedding anniversary and his daughter’s wedding. A 40-year-old women also died of a heart attack during the swimming segment of the event.

Twenty-two Navy Seals,  who belonged to the same covert unit that killed Osama bin Laden, were killed this weekend in Afghanistan when their helicopter was shot down.

Jason Workman, from Utah, was one of the Navy Seals in the downed helicopter. He was 32.

We’re constantly reminded about the fragility of our lives. There is really no telling what will happen tomorrow. The things we have to “protect” us really are our faith, hope, love and good will towards (wo)men.

I was feeling overwhelmed today, when my son reminded me of the incident in Afghanistan to put my feelings in perspective. Then my wonderful FOFriend, Elline, called to tell me that I can always call on her if I need help with anything. And another FOFriend, Lisa, sent me a heartwarming email after I told her how elegant and beautiful she looked in recent photos.

I’ve said it before and I’ll say it over and over again: We must try not to lose sight of the important things in life. We must relish every moment we have, the people we adore and the gifts we’re given.  My heart goes out to the families of the athletes and the brave young men who died. I hope that they can take solace in the fact that their loved ones were doing what they loved.