A constant refrain, as it seems to my dear mother, to us, that our death sentence is being dragged out too much.
And that even over this final act, we seemingly have no power, through our wishing it, to be made free of a life which no longer brings us sufficient pleasure and happiness.
While it denies us the peace which my dear mother, and, in our time, us, might be yearning for.
But, of course things are not always as fraught and tense as this. There are times when my dear mother is rather more upbeat.
Times when I have resolved myself to expect and be more tolerant towards the seemingly constant negative refrain which is capable of wearing down probably the most stoic and patient of people.
And, after all, when the norm seems to be one which we might interpret as a negative one, it does behoves us to look for the positives in the situation, and to make more of a fuss of and celebrate them.
To be continued!
But, of course things are not always as fraught and tense as this. There are times when my dear mother is rather more upbeat.
Times when I have resolved myself to expect and be more tolerant towards the seemingly constant negative refrain which is capable of wearing down probably the most stoic and patient of people.
And, after all, when the norm seems to be one which we might interpret as a negative one, it does behoves us to look for the positives in the situation, and to make more of a fuss of and celebrate them.
To be continued!
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