Thursday, January 12, 2012

Written for my Achalsia Support Group. . . .

Yup. No dang guarantees. But then there never are any, really, for all we act like there are, grin. We marry in the face of terrible odds, believing that *our* love will make it. . . . And miracle of miracles, it often does. We have children, and hope and pray they'll be fine at birth, and mostly they are. We build houses and pour our hearts into making them homes, praying all the while that hurricanes, typhoons and earthquakes will pass us by, and they do for the most part. Living seems to be more of an art than a science. . . .

But for the fact-loving: N. dug these up a while ago, and says it so well, I'll let him speak for himself:

Needless to say if the odds on a lottery were anywhere as near as good, I'd be taking out second mortgage on my farm to buy tickets!

And here's a scrap of poetry that always works as HeartsEase for me:

“Failing to fetch me at first, keep encouraged. Missing me one place, search another. I stop somewhere waiting for you.”
― Walt Whitman

Julie, West Virginia!

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