Hourglass of time....

Over the last couple of weeks, a number of people I know have had serious health issues.  Some of them have built up to the crisis, while others have suddenly found themselves in health related trouble.  It is always a surprise when our bodies turn on us and we have to face the fact that they aren't 100% reliable.  But, in fact, life is a crap shoot, and you never know when your time will be up.  It is sobering to realize how many people will not see tomorrow, and that how they live today is the way they will be remembered by the people who knew them best.

Happiness is a choice....

It has been a long couple of weeks in Walton World, and I am ready for a revived spirit.  One too many times, the dreaded words, "It could have been worse," have been uttered, and I am starting to feel unreasonable in my response.  But ultimately, I know my reaction to what is going on in my life is up to me, and I have to be the one to set the tone for how I feel about my own experiences.  Easier said than done.  But eminently possible.  Even, on a good day, fairly manageable.

So today, a lovely, sunny Saturday filled with promise, I mostly chose to make it a good day.  I chose joy.  I chose to smile, whether I felt like it or not.  I laughed at my dogs and their silly antics.  I felt cheerful when looking at the flowers my husband chose to give me earlier this week.  I took a nap because I felt like indulging my baser instincts.  And I am not going to feel guilty about it, because I needed that time for me.

Survival...

Today is the 70th anniversary of the liberation of the Auschwitz concentration camp in Oswiecim, Poland.  It is a milestone this world would be better off never having to mark.  But because human beings can be inhuman, it is a day of remembrance of the six million souls who died too soon at the hands of those who would play God, as well as the recognition of the few who survived to tell the world the truth of what happened.  It is a serious day, a heartbreaking day, even all these years later, when you think of the lost lives, the lost art, the lost theories and designs and everything else that might have come if the Holocaust had never happened.

Father's Day...

Over the last 42 years, I have read a lot about fathers.  Some are present. Some are absent.  Some are active, some are barely available.  But whatever kind of father they are, they have an effect on your life that you will carry with you until you breathe your last breath.

My father was one of the guiding lights of my life.  When I was little, I thought he could do no wrong.  I really believed he could do anything, take care of everything, solve any problem, fix any worry.  In short, my dad was a demi-god that I looked up to.  And I had good reason.  Because he did do all of those things.  It is not a bad thing to believe in your father, and I certainly believed in mine.

Just the facts...

I read a Facebook page post this evening that has given me cause to think.

But first, a small disclaimer.  I am not a follower of that particular page, nor the person who writes it, but I am friends with a number of people who do follow him, and who think quite a lot of him.

So tonight, when his post popped up on my wall, I glanced at it with curiosity.  It pulled me right in, because at the top of the page, it acknowledged a two week unpaid suspension from the job of Chief of Police in a town called Brimfield, Ohio. I thought that was pretty big news, considering Brimfield is a smallish town of about 8000 people near Akron, but its wildly popular Chief has a Facebook following of over 175,000 supporters from across the globe.