My best friend Buddy contacted me this weekend and told me that his parents had agreed to attend and actively participate in marriage counseling. They are talking to an impartial third party that is not biased to help them sort out and resolve their issues and/or disagreements.

Buddy sounded very happy to say that there was a positive gleam of progress in his parents not getting along, with petty fighting, disagreements and not sharing their positive energy to continue to grow as a happy couple.

Buddy pondered: "I guess this type of thing is more common than we like to think, disagreements, I mean." He continued his thoughts: "A small thorn at your side can really fester and cause permanent damage or breakup."

I said that true family cares and contributes more positive energy like he has done to attract the peace and harmony that is needed in immediate family lives. Marriage, like life, is a work in progress.

I was in Austin the other day and stopped by a gasoline station to get fuel for my vehicle. There was this slender man in a wheelchair that was already in the process of filling up his automobile gas tank as I drove up to do the same. This man left the pump in his vehicle filling up his tank while he went in to the store counter and got something else.

All the while that this was going on, you could see the peace and inner content in the individual that moved that wheelchair. He seemed completely confident and focused on his task at hand like he was walking on his own two feet.

But, he was not walking, he was navigating his wheelchair and finished pumping gasoline into his car. He placed the gas tank cover on his car and put the gasoline pump back in its place.

During all this time, I was just starting to pump gasoline into my vehicle while I quietly observed this man's activity. It was like poetry that someone writes, that makes so much sense once you read it and think about it from a different perspective.

I thought to myself: "Would I be able to handle my life as well as this gentleman does if I were in his shoes?" I really do not know. I can only hope that I could.

This man finished with the gasoline duties, opened the driver's door and got his wheelchair next to his car seat. I noticed he was wearing black gloves as he got situated in his car seat and placed his wheelchair cushion on the passenger side. He then proceeded to compact his wheelchair to move it to the back seat of his car.

At this point we made eye contact and smiled. I complimented him on how well he is living independently and with more confidence than some youngsters are able to realize. He smiled again, said thank you, and drove away to continue his obviously happy life.

Joe-Santos Medina is a resident of Robstown. Readers may contact him via email at