The Visit

Driving away from my brothers house, I immediately thought of Abraham Lincolns' words:

"The dogmas of the quiet past are inadequate to the stormy present. The occasion is piled high with difficulty, and we must rise with the occasion. As our case is new, so we must think anew and act anew."

How can you convince someone that life is worth living when they cannot see the fact for themselves? CAN you? How can you tell someone that the past has become a slowly tightening noose around their neck, when they refuse to open their eyes and see the rope?

I have watched a family dissolve as I've grown older. Eaten apart by regret, remorse, addiction, rage, grief and denial...our family lived on lies and marches on with those same lessons. Lies, a common thread among all.

Being the youngest in the family afforded me the opportunity to watch my brothers and sisters as they navigated through decisions that determined their fate. However, being the youngest in the family afforded me the horror of watching my family crumble, my siblings go their own ways, connections lost, lives once brilliant and bright now scarred, damaged and forsaken.

Have I been sickeningly happy my entire life? No. Have I been perfect and entirely without flaw? No. But I've been walking with purpose, learning as I go, ever mindful of those that have died and those that are working hard at it for some un-Godly reason.

I suppose Agatha Christie said it best:

"I like living. I have sometimes been wildly, despairingly, acutely miserable, racked with sorrow, but through it all, I still know quite certainly that just to be alive is a grand thing."

Yes. I do enjoy life with all it's heartache and misfortune sandwiched between the moments of giddy bliss. That is life to me and I couldn't imagine NOT experiencing it full-force.