In the midst of my self-imposed unsettled life, my father emails me. This is my 89-year-old dad, Joe. He lives in a retirement community, where he spends a lot of time on his iPad.
“Can you take me to the Apple store, Jenny? My iPad keeps saying, storage full, and I’m not getting my emails?”
Two days later, I find myself driving to Oakland. “Just accept what is. See the beauty in the pain. Have gratitude for each moment.”
When suddenly, “Wait, did I remind my dad to find his Apple ID?”
I call my dad from my car . . .
“Dad, do you know your Apple ID?”
“Did I eat what? I can’t hear you!”
“APPLE ID!”
Practicing radical acceptance is harder than it looks.