I am afraid of losing what I have already valued.
I've grieved enough for his life cut short and for mine for running on for so long with so little in it. It's weakness now, but I suppose I am crying out of a general sense of loss. Maybe I am mourning for the human condition.
I need them and they need me to need them
Wherever you look there is so much loss and folly to contemplate.
Is nothing in life ever straight and clear, the way children see it?
After a lifetime's independenceโ yes, selfish independence as my daughter would rightly claim โ I am terrified of being reduced to childhood once more, to helplessness, to seas of confusion from which the cruel lucid intervals poke up like rock shoals.