The perfect life does not exist.
I may have thought it did at one time. A lot of kids with idyllic childhoods may have thought that way. Was mine idyllic? I have no bad memories. I was surrounded by a loving family, growing up with incredible brothers and sisters. Did we fight? Sure we did. But I don’t remember the fights. I just know how much I love them today.
I blame my parents. They did so much for us without us even knowing. Who knows, maybe they’d figured it out by the time they got to me (number 5 out of 6). My older siblings might remember a few bumps on the way, but they’re not letting on if they do. It’s too late to.
My mother once told me that she did occasionally have disagreements with my father. It’s just that they resolved not to have them in front of their children. The worst I heard out of her was a tinge of exasperation in her voice, and even then, as a kid, I’d have no clue what was going on. So you can imagine what life got to be like for me the first time my wife and I had an argument. I was kind of shocked. I mean, “that’s not how it’s supposed to go, is it?” I’d say it’s taken getting used to, but in reality, I’ve never gotten used to it. I refuse. Thing is, there are two people in the marriage, so it’s something that comes up every so often.
So much for the perfect life. I mean, it’s been pretty good lately, but it’s taken nearly 40 years to get here.
Today I heard a song for the hard times. I hope it touches your heart when you need it…