Ruined Lives

I’m no stranger to tragedy or chaos coming in and ruining my life.  It’s happened many times, but like a cat I keep landing on my feet.  I keep getting up and trudging forward.  What else do I have?  What else can I do?  Lay there and die?  Well, yeah… but I suppose I’m too stubborn or too stupid to do that. 

I can’t give a list of things that have come in and uprooted my life; there are just too many.  Also, some of the things that brought me down may not be a problem for others, yet held the power to destroy me.

I can’t tell which hurts the most, because I still wear the scars and feel the pain from time to time.  Scars are reminders of those battles, and I believe they hold within them part of the original pain.

I can’t tell which disasters were my fault or from which I was the victim.  All left residual marks, all bore harsh consequences, and all required their pound of flesh.

All I can tell you is that I’m still here. I’m still alive. I’m still breathing.  Though it’s hard sometimes to inhale and exhale, I am able to fill my lungs. Hope stirs for a better tomorrow.  I can’t say anything about the day after.