By Pattie Mihalik

I’ve often heard it said that the older we get, the faster time goes.

That must be why my time melts away before I can grasp it.

Holding onto a day, a week or a month is like trying to put a snowflake in our pocket to make it last longer.

Time flies by so quickly that I often hear myself saying: Is it Monday again? Wasn’t it just Monday a few hours ago?

My concept of time is also warped.

When the air conditioning maintenance man told me some parts in the condenser will soon need replacing, I told him that couldn’t be right.

My air conditioning is new and I bought a top-of-the line unit, I said.

The technician checked the date of purchase and told me my “new” air conditioner was 10 years old.

How can 10 years have flown by so quickly?

Another time-wise jolt came when I received the nicest letter from a longtime reader. She said she started reading and saving my columns when she was a teenager. She’s still a faithful reader, she said, with teenagers of her own.

I did a little bit of math in my head and realized this month I have an improbable anniversary. As of Oct. 22 it’s been 40 years that I’ve been writing this column.

Forty years sounds like a long time. But it seems like a few years to me.

I remember ever so clearly the way Fred Masenheimer and I put our heads together to launch my column.

I said I wanted my column to be like reading a letter from a friend.

Fred designed a Saturday full page in the format of a letter.

The salutation each week started with Dear Friend.

Over the years space concerns made us end the letter format. But I still write the column each week as if I’m writing a letter to a close friend.

Always wanting to expand my writing ability, one year I went to Pittsburgh for a column writing seminar put on by a nationally syndicated columnist I had long admired.

During the question and answer period I asked him how honest we should be in our writing. “As honest as you dare,” he said. “Every week it’s like I cut a vein and let the blood flow.”

Well that’s the kind of column I’ve been writing through the decades. I’ve been totally open in sharing my life’s challenges with readers.

I do that because there are universal feelings we all share. If I’m going through it, chances are plenty of readers are also experiencing the same thing.

When I was diagnosed with a brain tumor, I shared my fears and my feelings with readers.

I so remember walking into my publisher’s office and telling him he had to find another columnist because the surgeon said I only had a 50 percent chance of coming through surgery unscathed.

“Don’t say you only have a 50 percent chance. Harness all your positivity into knowing you will be fine,” he said.

I did exactly that. Brain surgery actually changed my life in a positive way. I vowed if I came through the surgery I would never, ever, waste a day of life. I also vowed to be a positive force for others going through difficulties.

They were two vows easy to keep.

The most difficult time of my life wasn’t brain surgery. It was the 12½ years of my husband’s illness.

Andy suffered two serious strokes that left him unable to talk or walk. He regained his ability to speak, but his total right-side paralysis remained.

If all that wasn’t enough, he was also afflicted with three cases of cancer.

Yet, in some ways, it was a beautiful, faith-filled time of life for both of us. Cancer ravaged his body, but it didn’t ravage our love for each other.

I candidly shared all the tears and triumphs of those years with readers. In turn, many shared their own ups and downs with me.

The most rewarding part of writing this column is definitely the email, letters and feedback I get from readers.

To this day I cherish every time a reader takes time to share feelings and experiences with me.

I regard you all as friends.

One of the people I have most admired was the late Jean Stoneback, the legendary Alburtis columnist who graced our weekly newspapers for decades.

When Jean turned 80 then 90 she was still writing for us and was still a vibrant youngster, filled with the joy of life.

I always told Jean I wanted to grow up to be just like her.

In many ways, I have. Four decades later I’m still writing with no plans to stop.

Just as Jean did, I still get high on life. I also share her love of people and nature.

So maybe I did grow up to be like Jean.

My life has been blessed by always having a job I love and bosses I like and respect. I appreciate their integrity as well as the confidence they have always shown in me.

Bob Hope always ended a show by saying, “Thanks for the memories.”

To all of you who have gifted me with your stories and friendship, I say thank you for the memories.

May we share many more together.

Contact Pattie Mihalik at newsgirl@comcast.net.