October 20, 2021

My dad was in WWII and often considered himself lucky.  Lucky that he was a prisoner of war at this camp rather than another.  Lucky he went in this line rather than that line.  And I suppose he was lucky because he survived and went on to live a full, rich life.  I am sure the experience may have scarred him but he chose to see it in a positive light and an opportunity for growth.

And in the past year, I have been so aware of good fortune as well.  Sure it may be a bumpy, scary road but when I see and hear of what some others are dealing with, especially within the oncology ward, it is easy to see we have been lucky.

Visits to the hospital are a sobering, humbling experience and I am usually affected for days afterward, thinking of the people I may have seen or spoken with. The long line of bravery beads slung on a backpack, the cry of a baby, the sweet, verbal two-year-old, and so much more…

This morning, Marlon kept repeating how lucky we are that we got the puppy we did.  Though Mojo, the cat does not agree, she is a good fit, and I received a wonderful puppy greeting when I got home from work today.  Heart-warming.

She keeps trying, he keeps growling and hissing


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