I owe you another section of the novel, don’t I?

Before we go there, while tightness on my left side warns me about tomorrow’s emergency, I want to pause for a moment and look at life.

Are you raising your kids holding a concrete set of images with which you feed their mental curiosity?

Some will swallow the cemented mosaic without digesting the pieces.

Some will see a bigger picture and some will see the broken fragments.

No matter what you claim for success – the world’s best wrestler, the world’s best singer, a really good neighbour, mental/physical challenge achiever, ideal social ladder climber, or just simply out of the nest – your children are their own entities, ultimately.

If we have to criticize others to make ourselves look better, then we’ve failed.

That’s why I pay attention to what I say, trying to express the thoughts, feelings and emotions of others in a jovial manner, letting us know it’s all right to let our fears, dreams and wishes find an outlet, without taking ourselves too seriously.

Until you’ve faced death, you only think you know what life is all about.

An automobile smashup, cancer, stray bullet from a driveby, accident at home, choking on dinner, terrorist bombing, arteriosclerosis, domestic violence, congenital birth defect, drug/alcohol/tobacco addiction.

Numbness and hypnotism are interesting cohabitating opposites.

But let’s finish reading that novel.

I have an adventure to pursue.