I'd like to believe that I do not take my life for granted. I have a few wonderful and very close friends. I have great family members and am very close to both my mother and sister. My sister is one of my best friends. I have a wonderful husband who I truly believe is my soul mate. I have wonderful in-laws and I get along with them better than I ever wished for. I have a beautiful little daughter who has become the highlight of my day and makes me both smile and cry with joy more than I ever thought was possible. I live in a beautiful location where I am constantly filled with a feeling of "I'm home". I have a great job in a field that will help many people and really makes a difference in the world. Both my husband and I are able to save for not only our futures, but those of our children. Heck, I even have a wonderful dog, and yet I don't even like dogs!
Life is good. I'd like to think I know this. But I don't. I have no real idea of how good my life is. Every now and then I get a glimpse of how fortunate I am when I read something like this, but even then I still have no idea. The closest I get is reading an article that puts me in a bad mood.
1 comment:
As if the girl doesn't have enough handicaps - her remaining parent (and probably society) sees her only as damaged goods. As if blind people can't accomplish anything... but I guess when you can't provide education for sighted people, you can't afford special education for the disabled.
I wish that when violence was considered as an option, it would always take this kind of victim into account. If everyone who made a bomb or used a gun thought that they would be personally responsible for creating this situation, there would be a lot less warfare. Somehow people fool themselves into thinking only about killing the bad guys. Or maybe in this case, just being psychopaths who don't mind who they kill.
But this all sounds very trivial, like wishing for magic powers.
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