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How to Never Let Anything Bother You Again

They told me a lot of things bothered grandfather Morrison. He had a terrible temper when he was young. But I never saw it. I think it’s a good thing because he was a hulk of a man with a barrel chest and hands the size of pumpkins.

By the time I was old enough to notice, he seemed steady as a rock. I never saw him angry or heard him speak louder than a talking voice.

I remember the day the Morrison farm burned to the ground. I was younger than five, but just how much younger I don’t know. They took me to my other grandparents, Otis and Ada Rockwell, in East Corinth.

I don’t remember much about the fire, but I remember the smoldering ashes where the buildings used to be. I also remember the smooth shapes of melted glass I found in the debris.

I mention the fire because tragedy changes us. And I think it changed Glenn Morrison for good.

Grampy never seemed bothered about anything. Bad weather, even when it might spoil the hay that had been cut the day before, didn’t disturb him. After all, a spoiled crop is a small thing once your farm burns to the ground.

The smoldering stopped on the old Morrison farm. Grampy didn’t rebuild. The empty foundations never changed as long I lived on Reeves Road. Glenn and Helen just moved down the road about a mile, bought the neighbors farm, and kept on farming.

You’re steady like a rock when you accept the realities of life.

Acceptance isn’t approval. People screw up. The numbers suck. The house burns down. Move down the road a mile and begin again.

The sun rises everyday regardless of the trivialities of life.

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