The Hairballs of Life

"Our greatest glory is not in never falling but in rising every time we fall." Confucius

Life has felt like a series of big hairballs the last few months. I have had one infection after an other. I'm out of work until Tuesday on Doctor's orders as he throws Levaquin and prednisone at it. It spite of feeling so lousy I still have joy in my heart today. While sorting through a pile of papers I found an old photograph of my Dad and was reminded that today is his birthday. He would have been 91 if he had lived. Having known the shelter of his love makes it easier to cope with the hairballs of life.

Dad never had it easy in his life. His mother died when he was a very small child. His stepmother was out of Grimm's Fairy Tales (think Snow White and Cinderella). He put himself through school. He worked in the CCC camps to support himself. He made it on his own. He made it through with a sense of humor that bordered on the bizarre. He was always generous, especially to his children and only grandchild.

I became my most politically active when I went away to college. Through phone calls and long letters Dad listened to me, gave me advice, and most of all never, ever told me to stop. I know there were times when he was terrified at his head strong daughter out canvassing the street to get signatures on a sensible gun control legislation. I know he was worried that my very vocal support of equal rights for the LGBT community would put me into the kind of dangerous hatred that we see constatly about Gay rights.

One of the most important things my Dad taught me was to have an open mind. He encouraged me to read and we happily traded books throughout our life together. Dad and I had the same fascination about the paranormal. After poring through numerous books we decided to go with Hamlet when he said, "There is more in heaven and earth, Horatio, then is dreamt of in your philosophy."

Dad was a true middle of the roader when it came to politiccs. He was amused by my liberal politics and would debate me about my ideas not to try and talk me out of them but to make sure that I thought carefully about them and was certain that this was my philosophy.

He was proud of me and the science fiction conventions I ran because I donated all profits to charity. He was proud to realize that he had instilled in his only daughter a desire to help the peoples of this planet as well as the planet itself.

He was my best critic when it came to my art and writing. He was my biggest fan when it came to my cooking. I was visiting for a week and as always I cooked that week. He took me to the grocery store and introduced me to some friends he had run into. He said "This is my daughter Michele. She is the finest cook I have ever known."

So Happy Birthday Dad, I really miss you. You are always in my heart. I dedicate my efforts to you in trying to make this a better place for all humans who live on this planet and to make sure our poor batterred Mother Earth survives too.