For the last few days I’ve been feeling down. Let down. Because of you. So I’ve decided to write to you and ask for a little indulgence. I doubt that writing a letter to life’s CEO will do much good, and I know that complaining is a sterile thing to do. But at least I’ll get it off my chest and you’ll know how I feel.
Here’s the low-down: recently you’ve given people I love a hard deal. Once again. Not just small crap, like the car breaking down, or the hamster escaping and getting eaten by the cat. (That’s sad, but people would get over it, even if the hamster didn’t). No, you put your hand in your sackful of life’s surprises and sent them the big one. Serious stuff meaning that these special people and their families have woken up in a scary new world of hospitals, specialists and medication.
My first reaction was to hate you. I wanted to roll on the floor, have a tantrum and scream, “It’s not fair!” I didn’t though, because my Dad was already striding out of a corner of my mind to pick me up off the floor, hug me and tell me that it’s not fair, but life’s not fair.
So I’m writing to ask you to have a good think about what you’re doing, because once again you have picked on people who are good eggs and just don’t deserve this. (I don’t think anyone does, but they most definitely don’t.) You have inadvertently ladled out misfortune to wonderful people who have always taken good care of themselves and others.
Nobody can vote you out of office, and it looks like we’re stuck with you, warts ‘n all. So please think things over carefully before you roll the dice again. Because strangely enough, we all believe in you – whether we call you Life, Destiny or God, we have unconditional faith in the future. You have perhaps noticed that paradoxically, the worse things get, the more we insist on believing. So be warned that when you make things tough for us, we just pull on our boxing gloves, join forces and fight back with the best weapons we have: courage, faith, family, friendship, love and determination.
Call me naïve and childish if you wish, but you don’t have to be the bad guy. Take it all back, put it back in your bag and throw it down the deepest well you can find. You can call it whatever you like, and so will we – a miracle, medical progress, or a stroke of luck, each one of us will interpret it in our own way. But please let these special people get back to living the full, beautiful lives they deserve, and revise your attitude to life. It’s precious.
Thanks for reading. If you want to talk, you know where to find me.