Accepting What Is
“All the women called me Coach and I loved that the place had tablecloths”, exclaimed my Father, over two decades ago, regaling the virtues of a local restaurant he and his woman friend enjoyed in Calgary.
He wasn’t all that concerned with delving much deeper into anything; his preference was to take things at face value. He’d remind me, “It’s simpler Son when you accept what is.” He was more Buddha like then he was Catholic.