Talk:Protector/@comment-25464062-20141001011429/@comment-24040907-20141003222202

I believe I have made a slight mistake. My grandfather was not Irish, my grandmother was. My Papa was the Cheyenne one. I’m sure he’s most likely laughing at me right now. Oh the shame, how it burns...

And it’s alright to be realistic, to be pessimistic. I’ll tell you another story. When I have spare time, I join my brother for a night on the couch, playing video games. When I see that the game’s scores are not in our favor, I become aggravated, constantly nagging “We’re going to lose, we’re going to lose.” And oftentimes we do, but what I’m trying to learn is how to enjoy the game, even though the outcome may be disappointing.

As is true with life, your outlook could be bad, or it could be good. I usually try to enjoy the bad times, viewing my life as a comedy in the third person. I look at my troubles and learn to laugh at them “Haha, look at that poor idiot!” I write comedy articles about these times, (I wrote a very long one when my Papa died), so that other’s can laugh with me. It’s an excellent form of therapy, looking back at my writings, and seeing the good in things. I think it helps to see the bad things as insignificant little bumps in the long and crazy sledding accident that is life!

Ah, your sister is a fighting Latina! I can imagine she must be very stubborn at times.

And Cassandra England (that’s a beautiful name) she sounds like quite the fighter, too. Were you close with her? I can only hope, for you and her parents, that the pain of her loss was drowned out by the pride of her bravery.