A Smile to Remember by Charles Bukowski
We had goldfish and they circled around and around
in the bowl on the table near the heavy drapes
covering the picture window and
my mother, always smiling, wanting us all
to be happy, told me, "Be happy Henry!"
And she was right: It's better to be happy if you
can.
But my father continued to beat her and me several times a week while
raging inside his 6-foot-two frame because he couldn't
understand what was attacking him from within.

My mother, poor fish,
wanting to be happy, beaten two or three times a
week, telling me to be happy: "Henry, smile!
Why don't you ever smile?"

And then she would smile, to show me how, and it was the
saddest smile I ever saw.

One day the goldfish died, all five of them,
they floated on the water, on their sides, their
eyes still open,
and when my father got home, he threw them to the cat
there on the kitchen floor and we watched as my mother
smiled.

Dear friends,

I'm interrupting our regular schedule to bring you an important announcement:

Some of you have recently shared posts about the current (and seemingly never-ending) situation in Syria, expressing anger about the lack of attention it gets; outraged at how easy it is to scroll past those Facebook posts and return to our own lives while hundreds of people continue to suffer every day, faced with death as they try to maintain a life as normal as possible amid the airstrikes and shoot-outs and whole buildings collapsing around them, or as they attempt to reach a place, where -- even though it is strange and unfamiliar and scary -- at least it may be safe.

I understand that frustration. The unbelievable injustices these people are forced to endure is unfair; they are mothers and fathers, sisters and brothers, daughters and sons just like us and our loved ones, simply trying to make it to the next day, and it seems like nobody is doing anything about it.

But there are people who care: A special group who risk their lives and do their best to help Syrians in warzones and settlements, as well as many other communities trying to survive conflict, distress, or disaster in all the other places where medical aid is critical but scarce.

I'm proud to say that that is what Doctors without Borders (Artsen zonder Grenzen) does and stands for, an awesome non-profit I've got to know better over the last four months and whose work I'm learning more and more is so, so important. But they cannot provide clean water, conduct emergency surgeries, treat deadly diseases, or do the other great things they do in the areas no one else will go, without support from the public.

And since the Dam tot Damloop is coming up, I've decided to run the 16km between Amsterdam and Zaandam this year to raise funds for Doctors without Borders, so that they can keep helping those in the most serious and immediate danger, in the places it is most urgently needed. I've pledged €350 (or €22 per km), which we should be able to reach if each of you contributes even €1. :)

So, if the state of the world right now upsets you and you want to do something about it, here is your chance to make a difference -- or if you just want to support me as I try to pick up running again after doing nothing for 3 years. :p

My donation page: https://www.actiezondergrenzen.nl/actie/sue-anne_coventry?locale=en

Donation page is in Dutch because Netherlands... But I can help translate if it gets confusing (e.g., Doneer nu = Donate now). There's an English version now. :) And please get in touch if you'd like to contribute but can't use the options on the page.

Thanks, homies!