And then, every so often, I'm reminded of how good life is

I don't know why I torment myself with reading stories on the Internet that will inevitably make me upset and, quite possibly, sick to my stomach. But so it was last Sunday evening, I sat down at my computer to catch up on the latest Facebook postings of my friends.

I belong to one Facebook group, "The Four-Legged Stool," that is comprised of a community of individuals from a myriad of religions and faith traditions. One article that had been posted told of the Jewish heritage of the actor/director, Michael Landon.

Now, my family and I, having traveled to Hawaii about twice a year when I was growing up, are very familiar with Michael Landon and his family. They stayed at the same hotel as we during those idyllic summer holidays. While his kids were brats, Mr. Landon was very kind to everyone he met. He even waved to me once, which of course prompted me to do nothing else but giggle and run shyly away.

So, of course I clicked on the link to read the article, which was very good. But within the article was a reference to the movie, "Schindler's List," and another reference to a scene in the movie that involved a small Polish girl. I made the mistake of reading more about this heart-wrenching scene, and I really wish I had not.

But then, stupidity getting the better of me, I started doing a bit of web browsing on children of the Holocaust, and came upon the story of the children of Izieu. About 44 children were kept in hiding in a small, beautiful little orphanage in France after their parents had been picked up by the Nazi's. Of course, the gestapo found these sweet little ones, took them away and killed them.

I'll spare additional gory details of their senseless slaughter, but suffice it to say that, looking at the names and ages of these beautiful little kids, I was sick with anger. David and Elizabeth are exactly at the ages that these children were at the time of these horrors.

Then, of course, we have the current tragedy of Cayley Anthony, whose mother was recently acquitted of her murder.

Finally, in the "way too close to home" department, our family's recent loss of Walker, the 5-year old son of one my dear friends from Scripps College.


While these are sharp and cruel reminders of how life can be so unbearably unfair to the smallest, most innocent of our citizens, I need to remind myself that, for all of the logistical challenges that a commuter marriage presents to our family, my little ones are safe, healthy and happy. While I certainly spend my fair share of time negotiating with David and Elizabeth about food choices, teeth brushing, bed times, room cleaning, and the like, I'm incredibly lucky to have the privilege of being able to be their mommy, to hug and kiss them and feed them breakfast each morning, tuck them into their warm beds each night, kiss them as I drop them off at school (and when I pick them up), and cuddle with them daily.