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On Friday, April 10, at 8:30 a.m., I arrived at the MaineHealth infusion center for an infusion to treat my pseudomonas, a condition affecting the lungs. I don’t mind this ritual. Every six weeks, I get to relax for four and a half hours and be royally treated by caring professionals. My loyal wife, Tina, accompanied me that day, just as she always did when I got infusions for non-Hodgkin lymphoma four years ago.

On that visit, I read some essays from “Best American Essays 1993.” One of the essays (“Trivia Tea; Baseball as Balm”) was a moving reflection about a man who used his obsession with baseball statistics to help him cope with chronic fatigue syndrome. I was a star on my Little League team, but my dreams of playing in the majors were soon dashed after I had to face curveballs in the Babe Ruth League. That didn’t seem fair.

Shortly after returning home from the infusion, I got a text from a dear friend from Michigan to say that his wife had died that morning. I have known Peter since my freshman year at Bowdoin. We lived in the same dormitory and joined the same fraternity. Peter and his wife, Libby, a gem, were an extraordinary team for over 60 years. I called Peter, and we shed some tears and some laughs. That’s what real friends do.

After talking with Peter, I turned on the television to see the Masters on ESPN. I was a good golfer back in the day, and the Masters has always been my favorite television event. What a treat! Rory McElroy birdied six of the last seven holes that round. While his driving was somewhat erratic, his putting was phenomenal. He sank long putt after long putt on difficult rolling greens. He even chipped in on one hole. I was delighted that Rory won the tournament, because he’s definitely one of the “good guys” in golf. He’s not afraid to show his emotions, and he always give it his all.

That evening, we turned on the television along with millions of Americans to witness the return to Earth of NASA’s Artemis II astronauts. The Orion capsule carried a crew of four — commander Reid Wiseman, pilot Victor Glover, mission specialist Christina Koch and Canadian Astronaut Jeremy Hansen — back to Earth after a nine-day mission that set a record for the farthest distance humans have ever traveled from our planet.

My palms were sweaty during the six-minute communications blackout while Orion reentered the Earth’s atmosphere. But they made it safely. Three cheers for the marvel of technology and, just as important, the power of the human imagination. Look what happens when people work towards a common goal. It is both awe-inspiring and humbling. What a change from the current state of America and a world in which brutal narcissistic dictators attempt to increase their power over others by using bluster and force.

Happily, the resounding defeat of Viktor Orban, the prime minister of Hungary and a friend and ally of Russia’s President Vladimir Putin and America’s President Donald Trump, signals a triumph for democracy and an era of better global cooperation in the future. We can only hope.

So there you have it. April 10, 2026. A day which reminded me of the fragility of life as well as the power of the human spirit to overcome obstacles and march forward.

David Treadwell, a Brunswick writer, welcomes commentary and suggestions for future “Just a Little Old” columns at [email protected].

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