My fate and I have irreconcilable differences...I believe that it’s not just people who are allowed to declare that they no longer choose their mate due to “irreconcilable differences”. I would like to respectfully disagree with a certain discourse of events, for instance, with the fact that my mom should have an advance form of an incurable illness, and thereby demand a complete redo!
The thing is that I am not crazy. I know it’s futile. But something in me so desperately wants to believe…in miracles.
So, with tears on my face and with an almost childish determination and stubbornness, I sheepishly, yet defiantly look up and say: “Dear Fate, have some heart, would you…please? Isn’t there some way, maybe, possible for you to just turn the wheel around and move along a less rocky path? Could you please show your gentler side? I know you’ve got it in you. I’ve seen it, damn it! Have you ever heard of compassion? How about empathy?”
But then the practical side of me takes over and I feel my inner, wiser, more grown-up self rise to the occasion. And that’s when I hear a stern and poignant: “Shove your irreconcilable differences up your @#$#%! You’ve got to deal with what’s handed to you. Now stop whining, take a deep breath, let go of your ego, find beauty in the ugly and keep moving”.
What’s left for the weary-hearted to do but to follow along? And so, I take the prescription, mix it with a doze of resolute “it is what it is”, and take it all in one big gulp, like a shot of tequila.
“Yes, hello. This is Dr X’s answering service. May I help you?”
“Yes, I need help”
“What can I assist you with?
“Could you please have the doctor call me back right away?”
“Is it an emergency?”
“Yes, I urgently require divine intervention. I need a miracle”.