Dedicated to my family- what’s left of it
I once posed a question: What would you do if you landed on Mars, or Jupiter, or somewhere utterly beyond—and encountered beings not perfect, not like you, yet still loving, still kind? Would your heart open… or would you turn away?
It’s easy to speak of love in theory. Harder to embrace when it shows up wearing unexpected clothes—or unexpected identities.
Estrangement in families, often rooted in fear or misunderstanding, leaves behind ghost years. Vacant chairs at holidays. Unsent birthday cards. I’ve seen what it costs. And I’ve felt the alternative—the kind of love that saves you quietly, day by day. My father gave me that. Not perfect, but present. That presence may very well be why I’m alive today.
So when I see people cut ties over ideology, pride, or personal discomfort, my gut says: please reconsider. Especially when someone’s truth isn’t harming you—it’s asking to be heard.
Love doesn’t require perfection. It requires courage. The courage to say: “I don’t fully understand you, but I won’t abandon you.”
🐾 George’s Philosophy Corner
George, my feline co-author, curled on his sun-warmed windowsill, simply said: “Love transcends species, beliefs, and furniture choices. I’ve accepted humans despite their obsession with vacuum cleaners. So surely they can accept each other.” Then he went back to chasing dust motes and pondering string theory.
If he can, maybe we can too.
