Health Is Wealth

My beautiful Mei has earned me a ring or two around each eye and the wifey, a third. Man, those ladies know how to ride me. Yet it is difficult to explain to anyone who is not a parent just how rewarding parenthood truly is. All of the hurt and abandonment and loss I've endured over my lifetime is somehow miraculously negated during those moments when I'm holding little Mei in my arms, in the dark, singing to her just before bedtime. Alone, just the two of us, swaying in perfect paternal harmony. It is a Love that I've never known and always needed so badly. I'm certain it has added years to my life. My 86-year old grandmother has convinced me of this. She lives just a few miles from the Texas City power plant (where the planted palm trees refuse to grow). She consumes a mostly postwar diet of canned vegetables and processed meats. She has battled breast cancer and won. She is also a tireless proponent of Love. She is constantly of service to others. She can't die because she is needed by so many. For me, this is proof that Love is the great healer. I've lived a selfish life- the drugs, the rock bands, the ruthless terminations of old relationships for seemingly greater gain, and later, the long vacations and the poser trophy awards and boastful Facebook rants. I'm but a legend in my own mind (as I heard one friend once describe a popular now deceased rockstar). I was a perpetual child until I was 30, when I finally sobered up and resumed the natural process of maturation that I'd put aside when I was 18 or so. Thankfully, I'm at a place now where at least I've the appearance of a responsible adult. Thankfully, I have few regrets. That I was able to burn the candle and almost die a dozen deaths and come out the other end virtually unscathed, in some ways, makes me all the more grateful for my life today. And then there's the gratitude that comes from living in the wealthiest free country in the world. Want to get humble really quick? Take a drive into Monterey Park, CA and see what even the upper echelons of struggle looks like. It's no walk in the park. I'm talking fresh immigrants hustling and bustling to make a better life for themselves yet all you have to do is look around to see it's slim pickings in these parts. When I see places like this or the wastelands of Lynwood, or the ghost towns of Long Beach, it further cements my belief that we really are products of our environment. Yes, I know this is Sociology 101 but I've got blood family and a House of Reps full of angry Republicans shouting from the rooftop that it's just not so. But I'm from the Louie CK school of thought- I'm pissed that his daughter complains about bubble gum flavored medicine when the "rest of the world is being eaten by bears". So I'm grateful. Grateful for my health, grateful for my wealth (however fleeting), and most of all, grateful for my beautiful wife and daughter (who beat me down like an ancient Egyptian slave and force me to be a better man). If you are an American earning $20 hr or more, this is an amazing time to be alive. My grandmother has witnessed everything from the invention of airplanes and televisions to the election of our first black president and, hopefully soon, the first woman. We have to be grateful because we can afford to love. Even my housekeeper has the latest iPhone. How many others are giving everything they have just to get by?