Evaluating Life

I have a recurring dream that visits me every year or so; in it, I'm back in high school playing baseball. I can run like the wind, make strong throws and my eyesight is hawk-sharp. I'm in excellent physical shape and weigh 170 pounds. And I still have hair. A lot of it. When I wake from this dream there's a brief moment of depression...but then I realize how fortunate I am. I've had more than my share of illness, injury and surgery. I was a frequent flier in the local emergency room growing up, which started after ripping a hand wide open when I was six while trying to climb up onto the garage roof. Yes, I was that kid. Titanium knee: check. Rods and screws in my spine: Got 'em. Screw in my shoulder? Since 1972, courtesy of high school football. My right ankle was rebuilt in 1996 after an on-the-job injury, my body has had well over a thousand sutures, I've broken a thumb and two fingers, though not at the same time, and I had right kidney surgery in 1974 to repair a birth defect; that one almost killed me. During the procedure my left lung collapsed and post operative pneumonia developed in my right one. I've been in car crashes, cruiser accidents, knock-down, drag-out fights; I have arthritis in both thumbs and shoulders. Yes, there are aches and pains and some days are worse than others, but I am not complaining. Some would say that I have every right to, but that's not me. Pain lets me know I'm still alive, and I am thankful for it. I also survived cancer last year. It cost me half a kidney. Every day since the surgeon took that segment of kidney I count as a bonus. I'm on overtime. If it had gone undetected, my personal doctor said the cancer would have killed me by now. I am thankful for each sunrise. My Dad used to say "No matter how bad you think you have it, there's thousands of people who would gladly trade places with you", and "You're not the first to go through this and you won't be the last." There is truth in those words, truth that is incontrovertible, undeniable. Every time a negative event occurs I think of Dad's words. They've gotten me through some pretty dark times. I miss my Dad terribly. I don't need assistance getting out of bed, in and out of the shower or putting my clothes on. I can walk, drive and feed myself. Hundreds of thousands of people in the United States can't say the same. I'm retired, live in a modest home in a modest neighborhood and drive a twelve-year-old pickup truck with 123,00 miles and crank windows. I have a loving, God-fearing diamond of a wife who takes very good care of me, and I wouldn't take the world for her. She deserves better than me, and I strive daily to be the man she deserves. I certainly don't have all I want, but I DO have all I need. For that, I am extremely thankful. I am grateful for the life I have. Aches, pains and all