Norman Cousins said that death was not the fundamental loss in life; only the known one,

the certain one. What was the wrenching death, the preventable death, was the death of positive emotions while we were still alive: hope, faith, love, purpose, spirit, determination, festivity. He was a central guest at the celebrated White House Nobel Prize dinner on April 29, 1962 exchanging bon mots with Lionel Trilling, James Baldwin, Dr. Linus Pauling, William Styron, Robert Frost, Pearl Buck and other stellar lights that President Kennedy termed "The most extraordinary collection of talent and human knowledge that ever gathered in the White House, except when Thomas Jefferson dined alone." And now I, a

young woman, was on my way to meet him. Political journalist, professor, world peace advocate, passionate nuclear disarmament crusader, humanist, husband, father to five daughters, winner of prizes and accolades from around the world, author of books like Anatomy of an Illness and Human Options. I thought of what added luster to his name as my heels clicked down that long, bright, empty hall on the UCLA campus where a building now bears his name and recalled that, Albert Einstein, Time Magazine's Man of the 20th Century would call to chat with him on the phone. I was a dust mote in comparison, and had also met some of the literati who were disappointing. Would another hero bite the dust today? His door was open, "Come in! Come in!" Norman Cousins was sitting on the edge of his desk as if he didn't have a care in the world, or a thing to do. A knee crossed over the other leg, one hand was in the other in his lap. His expression was one of kindness and intelligence. He had lit up fresh skin and a warm smile. He wore a simple tweed jacket, slacks, loafers, no tie with his shirt open at the collar. He personified grace and ease. Our work had a tiny connection, and so I got to know him a bit, beyond his public stature, lectures and books. He believed in laughter, optimism, and had a twinkle in his eye for the world. He was so curious about the interrelationships between all things, and in the last twelve years of his life, especially the mind-body-disease connection. He said that "Inevitably, an individual is measured by his or her largest concerns." But he is also measured by his equanimity whether in the halls of power, in a leper colony, in dealing with his own long battle with degenerative disease, or in his generosity to a young woman who could do absolutely nothing for him in return.

I was in a parking lot at the end of a busy day laughing with a group of friends--the last time I saw him. He and his wife drove by in his older blue Volvo. He saw me and slowed down with a big smile to wave goodbye. One of the truly great men whose words challenge us today to bring forth the greatness of humanity as the solution for the planet's ills-- when the essential cause underlying societies own ills is widespread divorce from our own humanity. Thanks for stopping by, Suzanne. http://www.suzannedecornelia.com/