My daughter had a fish and her name was lucky. It actually wasn’t a she but a he because it was a beta fish. She wanted a girl fish so we simply treated the fish like a girl fish. I mean, come on, it’s a fish.

Lucky died yesterday and it was my job to let my eight year old sweet little, care about the whole world, little girl know that lucky wasn’t so lucky. I have to be honest that it broke my heart. It broke my heart because I know that I couldn’t do anything to help. I couldn’t tell her that everything was going to be ok, because lucky isn’t coming back and this got me thinking.

I was thinking about all the crazy things we get concerned about. We burden ourselves with worry about this and complain about that, but nothing really matters. Not that it doesn’t matter but with death, everything seems unimportant.

Death is the most wonderful thing and the scariest we all face. It’s wonderful because without it we wouldn’t get up to much because we could always do it tomorrow. It’s wonderful people the people that came before us can’t own everything and hold everything against us. But it is scary because there is no real meaning for any of this.

How could there be though? How can there meaning unless we deem something meaningful. This is what makes life so beautiful and makes our existence in the first place so lucky.

We really are lucky. Lucky to enjoy a cup of coffee in the early hours of the morning. Lucky to have a vehicle that can move me vast distances in a relatively short period of time. We are lucky that food is available everywhere we go and that we don’t have to hunt for it or go hungry waiting to find some.

There is so much that we have and we are and yet there are so many people feeling so terribly about who they are and the lives they are living. I wish I had the time to talk to them; talk to all of them but I can’t. I can only give a little girl a hug and let her know what she is feeling, I am feeling too. 

Seems too simple but that connection between two hearts is everything!


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