There are multiple stories I’ve seen or read over the years where the protagonist is living a happy life, then the terrorists/mobsters/white supremacists/demon worshippers push their way into it. The bad guy sneers that the happy life was an illusion — this, the use of brute force, is the reality!
That’s a big pile of bullshit.
Bad things are a reality. We all die, some of us too soon and very unpleasantly. Death, disease, suffering, poverty, they strike many of us. But they’re not the only reality. Dying ends life but it doesn’t cancel out its value. Disease may be misery but it doesn’t mean the healthy days weren’t real. Violence is real but so are the countless acts of compassion and generosity that happen every day. The Good Samaritan is just as real as the bandits who assaulted the merchants and left him bleeding.
Even if I were living in the best of times — and the presidency of the Necrotic Toddler is definitely not that — my life has an expiration date. TYG’s too. And our pets will pass before we do. Just thinking about it chokes me up; we’ve had Trixie and Plush Dudley longer than we were married without them.
But the love and joy they’ve brought into our lives are no less real because it will end.
Everything I have will go away, one way or another. It’s still real, and I’m thankful for all of it. Friends, siblings, TYG, pets, health.
I hope everyone reading has much to be thankful for too.
