#everylife

As Wakanda gave us, Chadwick gave us a look into the future. No one is perfect but this man stood for everything that is right in this world, showing us not to take things for granted and be yourself.

43 is such a young age to die, especially in this day and age, but he still had 43 years on this earth.

We were lucky to have had him, and should not take for granted that we had someone so caring and funny, and talented to share this earth with.

Feel free to reblog and add your own comments if you want, even though he won’t see it, it shows our appreciation for this one person.

Every life really does matter, and if anything Chadwick has shown us how important it is to do the best with our time and not waste it.

Art4Rare 2023 - Worldwide Art Contest

Indousrare announces #ART4RARE2023, an annual rare art contest for all age groups, inviting artists from all over the world to showcase their skills in order to raise awareness about rare diseases and compete for amazing cash prizes.

Theme: All Things Rare (e.g. Rare plants, Animals, Events, Abstract).

Art submission can use any type of medium (watercolor, acrylic, oil, mixed medium etc.)/Murals/3D Art.

The entry deadline is February 10, 2023, at 11:59 p.m. (PST) / 1:29 p.m. (IST).

Winners of this contest will be announced on International Rare Disease Day, February 28, 2023.

In case there are questions related to the event, please feel free to reach out at: [email protected]

My father graduated from the police academy the year I was born, and has been a police officer ever since. As a child I rode in his police car to and from school on occasion, with a mixture of extreme embarrassment and even more extreme pride.

I remember that my mother used to listen to the police scanner in the evenings, even though there usually weren’t a whole lot of crises for him to deal with out in the sparsely populated county. Some days he told us funny stories, some days he told us boring stories, and some days he looked sad and didn’t tell us anything at all. One night my mom heard something on the scanner that scared her, something about a standoff involving guns and my dad that she didn’t want to tell us. She brought my sister and me into her room for the night to keep her company because she was worried. I still don’t know what exactly happened, but she stopped listening to the scanner many years ago.

Only recently, as an adult who can’t avoid the stories in the news, have I begun to truly worry about my dad. Everyone seems to hate someone, because of what they look like, or what their job is. As a child it never occurred to me to hate, to fear, or even to love based on something so superficial. All kinds of people could be nice, and all kinds of people could be mean.

Now that I read the headlines, I worry about my dad. Even out in the county, someone could just drive by on the interstate, see him in his uniform, and take a shot at him. A person might see his badge and hate him enough to kill him. They wouldn’t see the father that taught me how to change a tire. They wouldn’t see the grandfather that tickles his toddler grandchildren. They wouldn’t even see the good cop, the quiet man who told me once that he likes the idea of cops wearing body cams, because “they would protect good people from bad cops and good cops from bad people.” They wouldn’t see that, even though there are bad cops out there, my dad isn’t one of them and has nothing to hide from anyone.

This world feels like a crazy place. My dad retires in less than two years and it can’t come soon enough.