Books

I love to read and probably spend too much time doing it.  I just finished a book that has caused me some introspection.  It was just a novel.  A mystery.  I've always been partial to mysteries - love the set-up, the foot-work and the resolution.  Often I'm way ahead of the author and know "who done it" long before the wrap up.  Doesn't matter.  Still like them.

This one, however, had a lot to say about relationships:  family, friends, associates.  And since I've been thinking a lot about this lately my emotions got more involved with the book than usual.  And I found a few things to be grateful for:

That I have been blessed to have a BFF in The Husband.  41 years and planning on many more. (Thank you, My Love, I am so blessed that you found me.)

That I have somehow managed to come to terms with my own (lacking) childhood.  My parents weren't the greatest, and it would be easy to think they didn't do their best by their children.  But it doesn't matter.  I was fed, clothed and taught discipline.  That's far better than lots of kids these days.

That I understand the value of trust.  In family, in friends, in associates.  Trust lost is pretty nigh impossible to retrieve.  Particularly in someone you counted on.

That family ties matter.  That we are all so very imperfect, but those connections are hugely necessary.

That hurting hearts can heal.  We can help heal hearts, but do it best by just being kind, treating others with respect, valuing others as much as self and "giving others a break."

And this is all by way of giving myself a "pep talk".