Why I Can’t Ask Why

Book Cover

It’s not likely that anyone can get to their 40, 50, or 60s without experiencing a list of hardships. Some of those painful events can be deep and get us stuck in the muck of depression.

I, like many of you, have moments when I wallow in woe-is-me. I can’t help but ask why my husband had to get Alzheimer’s, why my step-daughter has to be so ill, why I’ve experienced so much illness, why do my children have to struggle, why everything seems so difficult, why I have little-to-no-play time.

But as a journalist, I also know that I can’t tell a story without looking at the bigger picture. If I ask Why me? that question must include the positives as well as negatives. I then must ask: why do I get a husband who loves me  so much, why did my husband and I have so many fabulous adventures, why do I have such incredible children, why do I have two great son-in-laws and the most delightful and perfect grandchildren, why do I have more loving extended family members and friends than I can count, why do I get to write professionally, why do I have the best boss and coworkers. . .

Writing my whole story quickly reveals how blessed I am as that big picture is heavily weighted on the positives. I certainly know why I can’t feel sorry for myself.

(Have you seen my posts on Midwest Mary and Saint Theodora/Mother Theodore Guerin?)

 

 

 

 

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