My mother has a house in the suburbs of a rural area of the northwest. Green is all around, all the time.
My father has a house in the suburbs of a metropolitan area of the southeast. Green is all around, all the time.
Regardless of whom I visit, my body is filled with warmth. Perhaps, a truth I take for granted.
When other families are fragmented by the cruel reality, I was blessed to have a family for even a limited time.
When other families are fragmented by the cruel reality, I was blessed to have a family for even a limited time.
There is no measure of gratitude for the small joys of life. And I bare my soul for family. Some say that's real. I think without regard to it. I do it selfishly; chasing growth and understanding. I want to pass it on just in case I manage to produce a child of my own. I want to give something greater than physical love and more meaningful to pursue.
Not to debase love, at all. I presume my love is granted.
I have a puppy. The way I dote over her makes me feel silly and hopelessly emotional. I purely cherish her and enjoy each interaction. The amount of protective demon that summons from within when she's in danger is uncanny because I made light of people who put the life of a dog before the life of a human. Now I do it. Silly me. I simply cannot resist. I mean, she's my family.
It's the existence. Unwilling to relinquish my claim, I fight for family; today, tomorrow, whenever necessary & to pass on the importance of protecting your own at all costs, all the time.
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