Life is precious. Life is fragile. Life is what we make it. Life is like a flower, a ribbon, a piece of candy, a piece of something colorful and fluffy. Others even call life names ranging from horse dung to something blatantly offensive. I can make a list of things to describe and compare life with, but this one rings the loudest: "In a snap of a finger, without warning, like a thief in the night, life can be lost."
I've known the above all of my grown-up years, but it was only after my husband's mishap on New Year's Day that I realized how very true every little saying I've heard and read about life. The fact that I now have mentioned the accident three times in a row in this blog is, I think, enough testament to that. Life, indeed, is precious and can be lost in a heartbeat.
We have a peculiar household, a setup people may find unconventional, something that's not easy to contend with at first but gets easier as the days go by. I work far away from home. I stay in the city during weekdays. On weekends, I go home and try, as much as I can, to fulfill the duties expected of a homemaker.
It's not a setup I would have preferred, but I can only do what I can and make the most of it. Besides - in my view, at least - it's better than working overseas. Like other parents in the same situation often say, quality always outruns quantity.
This is my life. Not easy, not a walk in the park. Then again, I oftentimes have a good laugh. Despite the challenges, I can say with all honesty that I don't envision myself living someone else's life.
Everyone has his own yoke to carry. Everyone has his own life to live. No matter how challenging my life - or yours, for that matter - seems to be, there's always a life somewhere that's bound to take the long, winding, difficult and forsaken road. Yet, as the sage oftentimes say, there's light at the end of a tunnel.
Thank you, God, for the life I live.
