50 Years of Living and Luck
How lucky can one man be?
The only way that I can quantify my response to
that question is to put into years.
Tomorrow, Friday the 13th, 2004, I will celebrate
fifty years of continous, uninterupted
existence.
So, how lucky can one man be?
This guy, me, is 50 years lucky.
I was born on a Friday, the 13th, in August of
1954, in a godforsaken place called Andrews,
Texas, the fifth of six children.
They say that for those of us blessed with a
birthday on Friday, 13, that everything that is
considered bad luck for others, you know black
cats, walking under ladders, mirror breaking,
etc., for us is not bad luck at all.
It's sort of like, well, being saddled with a
date of Friday 13 for a birthday is too much for
a person to be stuck with for his entire life,
so we'll just call the bad luck thing off.
Sounds good to me.
To my mind, child sexual abuse is sort of like
that. Sexual abuse is enough bad for anyone for
one lifetime. No more bad luck.
But since life rolls and rocks to it's own rhythm
how to make that happen?
The only way that I can see to accomplish that is
to change the way I look at life.
And today on the eve of my fiftieth anniversary
of life, I choose to see it as having fifty years
of good luck.
Through the process of living in recovery from
the sexual abuse that seemed to destroy any hope
for happiness, I have acquired a perspective on
my entire life that enables me to regard it all
as mine, unique and intensely personal. It is
what makes me what I am today.
And what I am today is a man who is extremely
grateful to be alive, to be a part of a group of
men who are learning to live and love again.
That in itself is a rare privilege in today's
world.
And if it took the sum of fifty years of living
to get me to this spot today, then I will
count all those fifty years as being fifty years
of good fortune.
Tomorrow, Friday the 13th, I will celebrate 50
years of good luck.
Nothing big, just a small lunch at a nice place
with 9 or 10 close friends. Not big, but very
special, very wonderful and very lucky, indeed.
Thanks to the men here who have helped me realize
how fortunate I am to have been born and to have
lived this life of mine.
I have to say that I am grateful for it all;
grateful for all of you and grateful for the
love in the universe that brought me here 50
years ago.
With much affection,
The only way that I can quantify my response to
that question is to put into years.
Tomorrow, Friday the 13th, 2004, I will celebrate
fifty years of continous, uninterupted
existence.
So, how lucky can one man be?
This guy, me, is 50 years lucky.
I was born on a Friday, the 13th, in August of
1954, in a godforsaken place called Andrews,
Texas, the fifth of six children.
They say that for those of us blessed with a
birthday on Friday, 13, that everything that is
considered bad luck for others, you know black
cats, walking under ladders, mirror breaking,
etc., for us is not bad luck at all.
It's sort of like, well, being saddled with a
date of Friday 13 for a birthday is too much for
a person to be stuck with for his entire life,
so we'll just call the bad luck thing off.
Sounds good to me.
To my mind, child sexual abuse is sort of like
that. Sexual abuse is enough bad for anyone for
one lifetime. No more bad luck.
But since life rolls and rocks to it's own rhythm
how to make that happen?
The only way that I can see to accomplish that is
to change the way I look at life.
And today on the eve of my fiftieth anniversary
of life, I choose to see it as having fifty years
of good luck.
Through the process of living in recovery from
the sexual abuse that seemed to destroy any hope
for happiness, I have acquired a perspective on
my entire life that enables me to regard it all
as mine, unique and intensely personal. It is
what makes me what I am today.
And what I am today is a man who is extremely
grateful to be alive, to be a part of a group of
men who are learning to live and love again.
That in itself is a rare privilege in today's
world.
And if it took the sum of fifty years of living
to get me to this spot today, then I will
count all those fifty years as being fifty years
of good fortune.
Tomorrow, Friday the 13th, I will celebrate 50
years of good luck.
Nothing big, just a small lunch at a nice place
with 9 or 10 close friends. Not big, but very
special, very wonderful and very lucky, indeed.
Thanks to the men here who have helped me realize
how fortunate I am to have been born and to have
lived this life of mine.
I have to say that I am grateful for it all;
grateful for all of you and grateful for the
love in the universe that brought me here 50
years ago.
With much affection,
