"Death is so final"

That's what Ken says, anyway. I got really fed up with his moaning and groaning last night. I got tired of everyone's complaining last night. I had brain rant this morning--luckily it took place in my car while I was alone and I've settled down considerably. Maybe. Ken has said before that, if he had his life to life over again he would not do it. His 2-year old son died 70 years ago, the victim of a home accident (burned by boiling water). Of course Ken has never recovered from this loss, but he has 2 sons and has enjoyed the pleasure of being a father for the past 61 years. Last night I'd had it and I ranted to him "How would you like never having had the joy of experiencing parenthood at all? Of never being able to have a child? Of not being able to be a parent?" Then I started to cry. Needless to say that shut him up. These moments of stabbing pain at the reminder of my infertility strike me at different times, and I suppose it's not unlike the misery of losing a child--always there, always a pain that doesn't go away. Anway, when people complaing about anything that has to do with children I just want to scream at them that at least they HAVE a child to complain about.

Right now I'm feeling that there are a lot of people suffering from terrible things and I'm living a life of good fortune--heck, I'm being allowed to live. My good friend's father was told a year ago that he had a year to live, suffering from lung cancer. Another friend's husband is suffering from ALS, has lost 50 pounds since August and can no longer comb his own hair, cannot lift his arms or hold a cup of coffee. A childhood friend died of colon cancer. A good friend's mother has Alzheimer's and doesn't recognize her daughter most of the time. My cousin has uterine cancer and it seems as though she may die from it. So is there anything I really have to complain about? I don't have enough money to buy all the Christmas presents I want to? My dog chewed the seatbelts in my car? My pants are too tight? Give me a break.

I'm trying really hard in my life not to sound like my father, who loved to dwell on what was wrong--with other people, with circumstances, with politics. I just edited an email to a friend because each sentence contained a negative thought. I could change everything to sound positive, it wasn't that hard. This is how I want to live my life, focusing on what's good, on what I have. I have a lot, I'm very lucky. Yes, I've worked hard to have what I have, but there's a lot that's mine by chance, by luck I guess. No, I don't believe in god, I don't belive I have a purpose in life and I'm not going to teach in an inner city school or go to Africa to teach them how to make it rain. I'm just going to live my life and enjoy it. And pet my dogs. And laugh to myself when North Country people say things like "That does me fine." Isn't that enough?