Oh, Poor Me

My dad was a man of very few words but he had a constitution of ironwood, probably the result of losing his mother at the tender age of eight. Sometimes when I feel like the weight of my responsibilities are too heavy, I think of my dad and how hard he must have struggled. I think of folks I know that are carrying a load I cannot even imagine.

Those that have lost a child to illness or to an unfortunate accident - a parent's worst nightmare; those that have lost a beloved spouse or partner and are left alone and broken hearted; those proud and self reliant people that have lost their job and cannot find another job that will provide enough for their family; those that are suffering an illness or disease, physical or psychological; those that are old, isolated or abandoned; all of you have earned the right to self pity should you choose it.

If you are alive and well, every day has the potential to be the best day of your life, that is, if you aren't too occupied feeling sorry for yourself. Some will have to live the unlivable, hear words that no one wants to hear, lose more than anyone should have to. They have the right to express their suffering anyway they see fit. For me and others like me that have been very lucky, get over yourself already. Remember all kids count.

Scot Hurlburt can be reached by e-mail at hurlburt@wildblue.net

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