I certainly hope not, but, even if you aren't right now, there's an excellent chance you will be in the future.

With the gigantic strides medical technology has made recently, the life span of the average human has increased dramatically. Joint replacement surgery is on the rise among Baby Boomers, and it's very common for someone to have not one or two, but even three or more "bionic" parts, allowing them the freedom to live a more active physical life, free of pain and discomfort, well into their Golden Years.

If only that were true for their minds as well. Sadly, the hard fact is that living longer greatly increases your chances of getting a form of dementia. It's not a matter of if you'll get it, it's only a matter of when and what type.

That being said, doesn't it make sense that we make finding a cure for dementia related diseases a high priority? Of course it does.

We are not a passive generation. We pride ourselves on our initiative and the fact that we are pro-active rather than reactive. Let's channel that drive and determination towards finding successful treatments that will lead, ultimately, to a cure.

Research is ongoing and great strides have been made. Experts tell us the breakthrough is just beyond the horizon, well within our grasp. We'd be out of our minds to slow down now. But, research takes funding, and here's where WE can do our part and be PRO-ACTIVE while we can still make a smart, informed decision.

All over the country, chapters of the Alzheimer's Association are gearing up for one of their biggest research fund raising events - the Walk To End Alzheimer's Disease.

I encourage, urge and BEG you to make the smart decision and pledge your money for a cause that will affect each and every one of you who is reading this.

Contact your local Alzheimer's Association or go to www.alz.org and make your donation today. I'll be making my dollars count at: http://walktoendalz.kintera.org/brazos/jproza

After all, it's just the smart thing to do.

I've always hated our backyard. Oh, it's a perfectly nice backyard, but the problem is it's owned by two people who have no idea how to landscape. Basically, our idea of landscaping is to buy whatever looks good, bring it home, slap it in the ground and either totally ignore it or smother it to death. Surprisingly enough, the ones we ignore tend to do a whole lot better than the ones we try and nurture. I'm sure that says something about our parenting skills, but I don't want to think about it too much.

Once upon a time, when the boys were small, we had an above ground pool. It was great and the boys loved it. They'd swim with their friends every day, having lots of swimming type fun. Even Roger liked it, and he's one of those annoying types who doesn't like to swim (you know the type I'm talking about).

Me? I hated it...to me it looked like a gigantic cattle tank, sitting in our backyard...sorta like the water tower on Petticoat Junction, only uglier, because we didn't know how to camoflauge it. It was just a big, old, ugly bowl of water.

Okay, fine, in typical Proza fashion, we decided to throw good money after bad and we got an in-ground pool installed. A real, honest to goodness swimming pool, with plaster, deck coping, tiles and everything else that comes with it...including the huge price tag.

No problem - it was an investment, right? We're investing in years of family fun and sun here! Who needs a vacation? We'd vacation right here in our own back yard and enjoy our new beautiful pool and all of the wonderful closeness and family memories we'd have as a result of all of that terrific splashingingly good fun! Right?

Well, maybe, except that Alex and Joseph picked that exact time to STOP SWIMMING COMPLETELY! Really? When does that happen? Let me tell you, when I grew up, there was nothing else to do BUT swim. If you had a pool, you were instantly the most popular, fun person to be around with an unlimited number of new best friends. At least during the hot, summer months; and if your pool was heated? SCORE! Lifetime Popularity, I guarantee it. Sure, we were shallow, but we were also HOT and BORED. Don't judge!

So, it only made sense to spend EVEN MORE money on the backyard, right? Are you sensing the pattern here? Good, maybe you could tell us, because, apparently we're not real bright.

We decided to have a pergola built in the backyard. We had a spot that was too shady to grow any grass and we were tired of lugging our chairs across the yard to sit under the trees.

Of course, we got our across the street neighbor to build it for us. He comes from a talented family of builders. You know the kind of people who watch the DIY channels and point out all of the mistakes. People who know it's not a good idea to clean paintbrushes in the bathtub (I'm looking at YOU here, Roger).

The problem with having someone like that building something for you is the snowball potential involved. One little innocent comment, one little "You know what would look good in that corner? A fish pond". Just one slip of the tongue and BAM, you're at the pond store paying way too much money for stuff you used to catch in the creek with a coffee can.

And ROCKS? Good Lord, I never thought I'd actually pay money for ROCKS. Seriously, I didn't think you could even BUY rocks. Don't you just dig them up out of the ground?

Let me tell you, I'd like to meet the genius who thought that one up. You know his parents are relieved, since they probably thought all of that sitting around digging in the yard with a stick was never gonna pay off. Ha! Jokes on them!

The good news is, we have a beautiful backyard. Complete with a stunning pergola, which is wired for electricity, with a ceiling fan and a stereo system. There's a gorgeous waterfall that tumbles water musically down into a charming fish pond, filled with fish and tadpoles. Frogs have found out little haven and have made it their own with nightly serenades and, judging from the number of tadpoles, more than one successful romance.

You see the obvious, right? The reason why the yard is now a beautiful oasis, instead of a desolate, barren wasteland?

You got it - we didn't do any of the work OURSELVES. We hired someone else to do it. And there ends this lesson, grasshopper.

It's the summer of 1964 and a little girl is playing. She's jumping from the framing boards of a garage down onto a ground covered with sawdust and wood shavings. That summer I turned 4, you were built and our life together began; a life that lasted 47 years.

We shared secrets, you and I.

I know the tar smudge on that certain brick of the fireplace and the fine, hairline crack of the one on the mantle; and the tricky two-step it takes to push open the screen door and make it down the back steps before the door swings back to deliver a smack. The front door lock doesn't give up without a fight and it takes a firm hand to convince it to cooperate. The back door is much nicer, but has a certain way of closing that has to be done in two stages. Not stubborn, exactly, just lazy.

You kept my secrets, too. My name, spelled out in stickers down the inside of my bedroom door, and the hole I put in the wall by kicking off my shoe a little too hard. Remember the persimmon tree my friends and I jumped over and permanently bent? And the fact that I learned to climb using the columns in the living room and found my mom's candy stash by climbing the shelves in the kitchen pantry?

We grew up together, you and I. When we were young, I played hide and seek in your gardens, running up and down the rows of corn. I climbed onto the roof of your greenhouse to reach the best plums and I knew the turns of your garden paths so well I could run full speed and never step off into the dirt.

You were my first love, my childhood home for 25 years and, even when I left, you stayed the same. Always waiting for me to return for a visit...to come home.

We have staked our claims on each other, you and I. My initials are in your sidewalks and every year iris, daffodils and spider lilies from your gardens bloom in my backyard.

I can't remember a time when you weren't a part of my life, and even though someone else owns you now, in my heart you will always belong to me. My special place, my shelter, my secret garden, my first true love, my childhood home.