Hanging by My Thumbs

Thumbs-downSeveral years ago I realized that pain is just a feeling and it doesn’t always reflect reality.  Sure, divorce is hard, but it doesn’t mean it’s horrible.  In fact, I came to realize that my divorce was one of the best things to ever happen to me.  It wasn’t my choice, but it was certainly freeing.

A few years later I made the statement that I could be in the desert hanging by my thumbs, and yet still choose to be happy.  I suppose there are some who didn’t believe me, and after several experiences not even close to that sort of pain, I’ve come to the conclusion that it isn’t always as easy as it sounds.  It’s easier said than done. Read the rest of this entry »


Cultural Marriage

As a kid who always felt inferior to the other kids, I spent a lot of time watching.  I wanted to see how the cool kids behaved, what they talked about, and how they dressed.  Over time, I learned that I wasn’t really that different from them.  So, I wondered, what made them cool and me teased, ridiculed, and rejected?

It wasn’t until I was in my mid-20s that I began to better understand the differences.  It was at that stage in my life when I realized the importance of something my parents had always told me:

Some people have scars on the inside, and some on the outside; either way, we’re all scarred.

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Agape’

Collision between two engines, Bay of Quinte Railway, ON, 1892I remember responding to the scene of a senseless accident.  A four year old boy had been killed when his mother backed the car over him.  There are many ways this could have been prevented, but it’s too late to retrace those steps, that boy is gone.  It was hard on everyone involved – the visual memories of doing CPR on this boy will haunt me forever.

I can’t even begin to imagine the pain this family must have felt.  The guilt and shame of the mother; the deep sense of loss; the ache…  In particular, I wonder how the boy’s father dealt with the loss of his son?  Did that marriage survive?  Most marriages do not survive the loss of a child.  I wonder…. Read the rest of this entry »

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