When you're in bed, you're dead
Mitch AlbomYou didn't get it. Sacrifice is a part of life. It's supposed to be. It's not something to regret. It's something to aspire to. Little sacrifices. Big sacrifices. A mother works so her son can go to school. A daughter moves home to take care of her sick father... Rabazzo didn't die for nothing, you know. He sacrificed for his country, and his family knew it, and his kid brother went on to become a good soldier and a great man because he was inspired by it. I didn't die for nothing, either. That night, we might have all driven over that land mine. Then the four of use would have been gone.'
Eddie shook his head. 'But you...' He lowered his voice. 'You lost your life.'
The Captain smacked his tongue on his teeth. 'That's the thing. Sometimes when you sacrifice something precious, you're not really losing it. You're just passing it onto someone else... I shot you, all right... and you lost something, but you gained something as well. You just don't know that yet. I gained something, too... I got to keep my promise. I didn't leave you behind.
All parents damage their children. IT cannot be helped. Youth, like pristine glass, absorbs the prints of its handlers. Some parents smudge, others crack, a few shatter childhoods completely into jagged little pieces, beyond repair.
The damage done by Eddie's father was, at the beginning, the damage of neglect...
All parents damage their children. This was their life together. Neglect. Violence. Silence. And now, someplace beoynd death, Eddie slumped against a stainless steel wall and dropped into a snowbank, stung again by the denial of a man whose love, almost inexplicably, he still coveted, a man ignoring him, even in heaven. His father. The damage done.
~pgs 104, 110
He never spoke of that night again, not to your mother, not to anyone else. He was ashamed for her, for Mickey, for himself. In the hospital, he stopped speaking altogether. Silence was his escape, but silence is rarely a refuge. His thoughts still haunted him.'
~pg 139
Holding anger is a poison. It eats you from the inside. We think that hating is a weapon that attacks the person who harmed us. But hatred is a curved blade. And the harm we do, we do to ourselves.
Forgive, Edward. Forgive...no one is born with anger. And when we die, the soul is freed of it. But now, here, in order to move on, you must understand why you felt what you did, and why you no longer need to feel it.'
She touched his hand.
'You need to forgive your father.
Money is not a substitute for tenderness, and power is not a
substitute for tenderness.
To know you're going to die, and to be prepared for it at any time.
That's better. That way you can actually be more involved in your life
while you're living.
Things that happen before you are born still affect you,' she said. 'And people who come before your time affect you as well.
We move through places every day that would never have been if not for those who came before us. Our workplaces, where we spend so much time- we often think they began with our arrival. That's not true.'
She tapped her fingertips together. 'If not for Emile, I would have no husband. IF not for our marriage, there would be no pier. If there'd been no pier, you would not have ended up working there.
His body had been weakened, the ocen had left him vulnerable, pneumonia took ahold of him, and in time, he died.'
Because of Mickey?' Eddie said.
Because of loyalty,' she said.
People don't die because of loyalty.'
They don't?' She smiled. 'Religion? Government? Are we not loyal to such things, sometimes to the death?... Better,... to be loyal to one another.'
~pg 138
Ain't you supposed to have peace when you die?'
You have peace,' the old woman said, 'when you make it with yourself.
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