Misery and Happiness

 

Perhaps the most awful thing is remembering happiness in times of misery. Its like having a sports car you can never drive but only look into the window: Distant, pretty, and not quite there. An awful feeling lunges up from your stomach. The loss of love. A wretched and painful existence. 

I remember once talking to Theresa about death. It was a serious discussion. Her health had been deteriorating at an alarming rate. She had just gotten out of the ICU for the last time. She gathered up her strength and said "Chris, listen to me. I love you and...." she paused, tears in her eyes. I cried. "This is it" she said ominously. "I don't want to live like this anymore" she said with a tear in her eyes. "Promise me I won't be put back there, Chris". We hugged and I promised her. She applied for medical assistance in dying the next day. Sadly, it would never come to fruition. 

9 months later she died.

I sit in wonder and amazement at the horrors people do to each other. The violence, cruel and unrelenting. Shootings in America, people being raped or attacked daily.

Have we descended below animals?

Sometimes I believe we have.

Except me.

Chris