Sunday Morning

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My internal alarm went off at a little after 6:00 and I knew I have plenty of time before getting up to play golf.

My 4-hours of peace coming.

I didn’t sleep all that well because Sam went out last night and I always need to know that everyone is safe. 

I texted him late but he didn’t text back.

“Sam’s phone is dead, but he’s all right,” my beautiful wife sent along.

Reason two why I slept lousy?

Animals!

With Sam out I had three scattered around me. Melky is my usual guest, but Paris and Miller were there too.

So, I rested before rising.

Went to Twitter and read all the nonsense about the post office being under attack.

I never thought I’d live in a time when American institutions were straight up attacked as those who abhor such a thing would line up behind the man destroying it all. They’re waving the American flag as everything it stands for is obliterated.

There’s not a lot I can do about the ENTIRE world. When I was young I thought I could write a book that would change everyone.

I tried!

Every single time, I tried!

Yet, somewhere along the way, I understood that I could make my little plot in life a little better and that’s enough.

Considered my wife who is really battling. Her body has betrayed her and I’ve spent a lot of my days trying to help her stay above the rising tide.

Not a lot of fun.

So, on Sunday morning, I took stock.

Sam, Jake and Matt all safe in their beds.

My senior dogs, coughing and a whole lot weaker, but still game for their ride.

A golf ball waiting to be hit straight.

A country in utter turmoil with a good percentage of the people willing to let it burn.

And an unwavering belief that if I put my feet on the floor I can still help improve things...

...somehow.

The sauce is set.

I’ll call my Mom. Interact with my siblings and children.

And fight a little before resting.

What else can I do?

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