Tuesday, December 24, 2013


Christmas Eve, 2013

It is 9;30, and I’m sitting in our living room, surrounded by the warmth of Patience’s Christmas décor, our lovely tree, and the sound of Christmas music coming from my computer.  The room is still, and there is nothing than can add to the elegance and solitude of the moment.  I am lost in the memories of Christmas Eves past, my parents, my children, and the wonderful sadness tit all bring to me

But there is more.  The one thought that intrudes on all of this is how fortunate I am to be where I am, and to have all that I have.  I am a wealthy man.  I am healthy.  I have a loving wife and family. I have caring friends,  I have a warm and comfortable home.  I have food to eat.  I have meaningful work.  And I have hope and purpose.  What more can anyone ask for?   More things?  A bigger house?  More social statue?  I don’t think so. 

And I ask myself, why?  Why me?  What did I do to deserve this life of mine?  I did not get to choose my parents, or the culture in which I was reared.  I did not get to choose my aptitudes, my personality, and whatever gifts and talents I may have.  I had no major obstacles to overcome in my life.  I simply did what seemed to be the thing to do  I worked hard, but no harder than many others.  There is now way that I can take credit for my life, because I was never faced with a choice to do or be other than what I am.  Even when it came to the difficult choice between medicine and art, I felt I was only following what was intended for me.

There are many who have more than I do, and probably even more who have much less.  It is my unwavering conviction that with few exceptions, their fates were predetermined by circumstances – parents, families, genes, and fate.  It is too easy to take more credit than is deserved for our successes, and to blame the less fortunate for their misfortunes.   

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