This ain’t for pussies
My friend’s daughter is dying of brain tumor among other complications. She’s two years old and she’s a doll. Last night, I had the privilege of spending the night with her at the hospital again and as I lay beside her listening to her grind her teeth down to the bone while struggling to stay alive – I thought anybody who complains about their life needs to walk a day in my friends’ shoes – you got a problem – boo fucking hoo – this is a problem, this is a tragedy, this is not self-inflicted drama – this is real life up front and personal. Hemingway called their kind of herculean endurance grace under pressure but I simply tell them this ain’t for pussies.