“…. The Other One ….”

Happy Friday, All!

And may I be ever so humble to T.G.I.F.!

Thankful and thoughtful, one might say, for another day along this journey called “life”. Before I go further, just an update regarding the shooter at the Sikh Temple in Wisconsin. At first, sources indicated that he was killed by the police officer who responded to the onslaught of nearly 10 shots fired by Page upon his fellow officer. Then, sources indicated that after further investigation, it appears that Page killed himself with his own weapon – a death wish personalized, perhaps. Peace to the families of the deceased and the survivors of this hideous unprovoked attack.

On Wednesday night at yoga class with an instructor who I enjoy classes with, we were asked, as is routine for her (the instructor), to dedicate our practice to something or someone. I found this to be a nice suggestion to assist each of us in staying focused when we reached points of challenge like falling out of a pose due to discomfort. The instructor would suggest that we remember what our practice was dedicated to in those moments when we wanted to give up. I chose to dedicate my practice to my mother.

Once I got home, a friend had posted something on Facebook regarding sufferers and survivors of cancer and asked that supporters repost her message if someone close to them was struggling with or had passed away due to cancer. So, I thought of my father, Isaac Henry Cook, who died 23 years ago from bone marrow and prostate cancer. He was a heavy smoker of pipes and cigars but lived to be 80 years of age. So, I reposted in memory of him, partially for feeling guilty that I seldom mention him in my writings though his words of wisdom are like vertebrae in my spine. Then I got to thinking how cool it was that Olympians like Aly Raisman’s father was there to support (and probably add pressure, too!) her as she continued performing through out the Olympic Games. There were other mentions of husbands and fathers of participants throughout the games and it prompted me to construct this writing about ” … the other one …” – the fathers in this world. Now I know it isn’t father’s day or anything, though it passed two months ago, and my hat goes off to Mrs. Phelps, Michael Phelps’s mother, as she agonized, performed and celebrated with her son who was clearly one of the highlights of these 2012 London Olympics.

So, just in case you were like I was, and have been from time to time, remember ” … the other one …” who may have played a major part in our development and definitely an integral part in our conception! Hat’s off to Olympic dads and husbands and male coaches everywhere from every country in the world. Mothers will always “ROCK”!

Peace,

John I. Cook, Director

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