All that we are is the result of what we have thought

My eyes are failing.  Not in a whoosh, more like a gentle decline.  But I notice it, and I mind.  And my knees ache.  And creak as I walk upstairs.  My mind seems as if I was in my thirties…….. teens some days even…. my body has no such false impression, its 50 and it knows it.  In fact some days it thinks it’s hobbling on for 60, maybe more.  My sibling complains of the same.  And we become two old crusties moaning about the onset of old age.  I actually called someone ‘dear’ the other day, a stranger at that.  I must start wearing comfy woollen skirts and sensible brogues.  But, despite all my moans and whinges I cannot help but recall a quote I heard many a year ago that said ‘Do not complain; old age is a gift denied to many’.  

So, I have been watching Born to be Different, and, like every year, Shelby carries on, her parents given a rollercoaster of emotions as she slips towards death and then rebounds back to life in the full.  Now she has been given a diagnosis that confirms an early death, and her family must prepare.  Like many families do, every day.  Families in hospitals, families in hospices, families in war areas, families in famine.  And it is an odd thing that a date given for death, even a rough time span, somehow brings out in us a need to be closer to that little life, maybe do more, see more, hug more.  I want to know why.  Not why do we do it.  But why don’t we do it for the children who have 30 years left, or 40, 50, 60 even.  Some do I know, but so many don’t.  Not that they don’t feel the love, but it is so often taken for granted.  Until that phone call, that visit, that piece of news.  Then you spend a moment wishing you had said more, hugged more, laughed more.  Don’t waste a day.  Not even one.

And a debate on the Radio – who should be responsible for the homeless?  This was based on a news story where local religious centres were feeding and caring for the homeless, and the radio personage was asking was it their job to do so, should it not be ‘the government’.  Well people called in and offered many an opinion.  I’d like to offer mine.  Who should be responsible?  You should.  I should.  You over there.  Everyone. Us.  We all should.  Why should we pass it on?  How can we walk by?  Who is this magic government that can absolve us from helping a fellow human being in need of help?  Do a little, do something.

We had a pretend Christmas.  We played games, we laughed, we ate, we joined as family and friends, and, I dare say, we hugged a little.  And we held a fun auction and raised some money for people with no food, no pretend Christmas and, who knows, maybe no hugs.  Simples.