The last month has sparked some serious discussions about my lifestyle, my future, and the reality of the cost of what I've been putting my body through. Simply put, I was given two choices. Either continue doing what I've been doing and know that it could ultimately be killing me, or make some drastic lifestyle changes and learn to respect my body and get as many beautiful days as I can.
The other night I was looking through my iPhoto library and was sobered by the absence of photos of Briar. What happened? There's Ave, there's Fin, there's another selfie. Do I not see her? Are pictures of her not as easily sharable and framable and, "Look, we're happy. Life is easy!" Maybe it's that she's getting older and I am being more restrained out of respect?
Forty-plus years of resentment and hatred toward my father, and it all disappeared in what my wife described as "a God moment." I always thought my dad would die and I would feel the resentment and hatred until the day I died. But that all changed in a few seconds when I told my dad I loved him -- and actually meant it.