My daughter was frustrated the other day with her job, her bills, and some other minor stuff that we all experience from time to time, stuff that usually comes all at one time and makes for a really crummy day.
"I hate my life," she whined.
"I hate when you say that," I told her. "Compared to most people, you have a great life. Go talk to someone with real problems."
It was one of those normal mother-daughter moments that neither of us thought anything about. We smiled, I kissed her goodbye, she left to meet friends, it was over.
I thought about that exchange this morning, though, when I read a story at Foxnews.com about a solider injured in Iraq, who is recovering in the hospital in Dallas, Texas. In October, his wife and three children were on their way to visit him when his wife encounted a huge gust of wind, overcorrected her steering, and crashed the SUV.
Two of the children died immediately; the other died Saturday.
Here's a solider who's returned from God only knows what war horror only to lose his children in one fell swoop. Here's a mother who's children are dead, and regardless of how the accident happened she'll blame herself forever. How does a marriage go on from there?
A story like that really puts your own life's problems into perspective, doesn't it?