A Thought Is a Terrible Thing To Waste

I thought when I didn't make the 3rd grade hockey traveling team, life was over.

I thought when I learned I would never hear as well as a normal person, life was over.

I thought when my ex-girlfriend was found face down eating gravel, life was over.

I thought when I broke up with my college girlfriend, life was over.

I thought when our firstborn did not get the chance to live, life was over.

I thought when my wife was pregnant on bed rest with bills piling up, and I was disabled, life was over.

I thought when we fought to the point of not being able to be in the same room, life was over.

I thought when my kids took my words for air, life was over.

I realize more and more each day life is to be enjoyed and not weighted against some bad breaks no matter how loud the yelling or how intense the euphoria of the good times. Reading Otis' post yesterday made me reflect a bit on the recent speed of all things parenting and marriage. The summer is heading towards Labor Day and all fried things on a stick await at the Minnesota State Fair with the first day of school shortly behind. The boy will be eating his first official school lunch as a first grader as Kyra will terrorize her first teachers in preschool after the roads get slicked with salt and ice.

The signs they are getting older are heard with every question, seen with every new batch of clothes some Children's Place, but with the daily 4:45am wake up call and seeing their little bodies wrapped up in clutched blankets; the brain's camcorder switches to record and freezes time for awhile as soon they will be arguing about getting enough money and staying over at someone's house that I don't approve of. Soon the immediate hugs and screams of "DADDY!" after work each day will segue into teenager's hormones and possible distancing of the uncool parental units. My thoughts will go back to those mornings and let their current rage drift by.

Someday is now today, as life has opened up for me where it seemed closed in the not-so-distant past. Thanks to friends far and near, my five senses have been opened up to the world (especially my broken ears). Thanks to my kids I have a reason to live for the future. Thanks to my parents for providing the soft mattress that enabled me to get back up after every fall. Thanks to my wife there's someone to live with for today for tomorrow, and although I'm far from the easiest person to live with and understand she is there to ensure waking up is a far better option than become a statistic in a newspaper.

Now that the sappy stuff has flowed to the page, poker will be played this evening with a fine beverage after watching sweaty women play volleyball at Mama G's tonight. Life is good.