“It matters not how strait the gate,
How charged with punishments the scroll,
I am the master of my fate:
I am the captain of my soul.”
Or am I?
Is everything I do predetermined? Is my path in life already set?
Maybe there is no such thing as tragedy if everything is “meant to be”.
Maybe it’s Fate that I love Cheeseburgers.
If I didn’t, then I wouldn’t have been sitting in McDonalds, munching my cheeseburger, when the pigeon with one leg flew in and stole a chip dropped on the floor. Maybe that chip saved his life and he’ll now go on to do wonderful things in the pigeon world. Perhaps he’ll be an inspiration to other one-legged pigeons everywhere.
That pigeon could be the next Heather McCartney.
Damn you Fate.
I don’t have the answer but I know that Fate is a tricky bedfellow for someone who has lost a child. Fate means that what happened to my son could never have been different. Fate means that his beautiful little face could never have opened his eyes and lived more than 24 hours.
Regardless, Fate or Foul, I am most certainly changed forever.
“My fate cries out,
And makes each petty artery in this body
As hardy as the Nemean lion’s nerve.”
and if Mr Shakespeare is right, maybe Fate had better think twice before it F**ks with me again.