All Different

I write.  And write.  And write.  Some might say I have an obsessive/compulsive disorder.  Ok some might think I write “addem nauseum.”  Good change though, they would not say it to my face.  It would be like whispered to another.
Ok I write because I can.  If I couldn’t, I wouldn’t.  It is just one of those things.  It is me, warts and all.  If I was famous that would be a headline.  “Kuskie has warts!” or “Which star has warts?”  They are on my fingers.  I have learned they can be dealt with.  For 59 years I did not know that.
I guess we are all different.  I marvel at the amount of food on the shelves at the supermarket.  To satisfy my needs they would only need one row, but there is all this food there, and I image it is because there is a demand for it.  Not from me.  From others.
Writing is one of my bents.  I am happy to go with it.  There may come a time it is not, but it is not now.  And records.  I had a large record collection.  Then the place flooded.  I still have them, but I can only salvage what I can.  I saw someone washing their records like they were doing the washing up.  I could not relate to that.  Now I can.  And stamps.  And relationships. And faith.  And the garden.  And…
I guess like all of us there are a number of things I am into.  No single one is me.  Many parts make up the whole. I like the phrase, “unity in diversity.”   The unity part I think we are working on, but there is no doubt there is heaps of diversity.
They say, “we are all different.”  Just as well I reckon.  The world would be a pretty boring place if everyone was like me.  I couldn’t do it, but I am grateful there are dentists who like to get into peoples mouths and look at teeth.  I could not be a podiatrist either, but they fill a need.
There are so many roles that are not me, but I am pleased not everyone is the same as me.  I would literally die if there were not others into stuff that I am not.  It seems many parts go to make up the whole.  When something is missing, everyone feels it. 
Australian Story did a story on a doctor in Katherine.  What was missing was that they could not land planes there after dark because of the wallabies on the runway.  That was no good for someone in a life and death situation that needed to be airlifted now and not tomorrow. 
The ability to land planes there at night is not missing any more.
Us all being different seems to be a good thing.  It needs us though, to all work together.