Last week I was walking along in the sunshine. I passed a woman sitting on a bench and I glanced at her as I passed. Her face was pale and she looked tired. Her hair was dark and straight. Her upper arms were white, but the rest of her arms were sunburnt. The perils of short sleeves in hot sun. She was talking to a young man who was standing outside a shop. I heard her say, 'I don't drink, I don't smoke. Why us? Why did it have to happen to us?'
I have no idea what she was talking about. Perhaps she was ill, maybe she had miscarried. Who knows? I thought of how little we know about other people's lives. All around us the drama of life is being lived. People are dying, others grieve their loss. Every day someone is told they have a life threatening illness and they and their families go on with their lives for as long as they can. They are in Sainsbury's or Tesco doing the shopping, they are picking up the children from school, sitting on trains, waiting for buses - and what is going on in their heads? If the pale, sunburnt woman had said nothing as I passed, would I have thought twice about her? I wouldn't have been aware of her distress. She doesn't know how strong an impression she made on me. How much I identified with what she said. 'Why us? Why did it have to happen to us?'
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you are right. I often try to snap out of what can become a having-mnd-centric world and remember that every day people, many younger than me, die through accidents, violence and illnesses within months or even weeks of diagnosis. And while that is of little comfort it does stop any preoccupation of torturing ourselves with "why me?"
ReplyDeleteThere is one immutable rule "Every 100 years, all new people." It's not a matter of if, it is when and how. And remember for some it's instant, for many it's long-drawn out nowadays. For most of these the exit route involves surgery, chemotherapy, radiotherapy, hope, recurrence, third line chemotherapy, hope, recurrence, trialchemotherapy, hope, recurrence, then the acceptence of the inevitable. Or as Mother would say "Life's a bitch...then you die." So 'carpe diem'; be thankful for small mercies; fear the worst but hope for the best!
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