Perspective vs Love

It could be worse.

We are all familiar with the ancient sea-faring maps that charted the known world. In the margins, where knowledge ended fear began they would write "Thar be dragons".

Well, this whole situation has pushed the wife and I off the map. And there are most definitely dragons. Big ones. The kind that come after your only child . . .

But it could be worse.

Saturday, a buddy and I drove up to a small mountain town called Idllywild. We had a great lunch at an outside table with the dawg nearby. Halfway through our lunch, a band set up right next to our table essentially making us the front row. Everyone at the restaurant had to look past us to see the band.

As my friend and I talked over a couple of beers the tears just started flowing. It has been two weeks and my heart is still breaking.

I wonder what the other people at the restaurant thought of a grown man at a table with his friend crying over beers . . . It would be embarrassing except for the fact that I love Annie so much.

But it could be worse.

My buddy told me that he had been scouring the Internet for information on Bella's condition and found himself on a bunch of pro-life websites. Turns out that Spina Bifida is something of a rallying point.

Most children born with spina bifida are perfectly normal kids. They are smart, funny, go through life as anybody else would - only they do it sitting down.

Most of them are aborted.

It could be worse.

So many children and so many families have it worse than us - seriously debilitating conditions - lack of food, medicine, clean water . . .

We live in AMERICA. We have access to clean water. We have the best medicine in the world. We have a home and a couple of cars and a kitchen full of healthy food.

It could be worse. And that is good perspective.

But perspective is not the same as love.

Perspective rejoices that things are not as bad as they could be - love aches that things are not as good as they can be.

Perspective takes comfort that some have it worse. Love crys for all.

You will understand if I do not take comfort in the fact that somewhere in the world a daughter, a mother and a father are suffering more than us.

That may be perspective but is most certainly not love.

I want the best for Annie. I don't want her life to be "relatively" good. I want her life to be absolutely, unequivocally beautiful.

Yes, it could be worse.

But what kind of father would I be if that was good enough?