I talked to a man today at some length about life, and death. This year as his wife's terminal illness deteriorated he fed her dinner many times by spoon as she was incapable of feeding herself. Now, a couple of months after her death, he reflects that having endured what he has this year his whole attitude to life has has changed. He can no longer give a stuff about anything. He wants only to walk in the fresh air and work growing his vegies. Nothing worries him anymore. His whole thinking has changed and business and financial aspiration no longer interests him. As much as he loved his wife and grieves losing her he's discovered a freedom of mind and spirit as a result of the loss. Nothing matters anymore, he lives for the day and the moment.
I think I can understand. Another man told me once of a friend's wife who died suddenly of a stroke with no more warning than having a head ache one night and getting up to take a panadol then dying on her way back to bed. This man was successful and they had acres and a lovely house with a pool and everything complete and neat. After his wife died he sat with no interest and asked what did all of it mean to him. It meant nothing he said.
I guess the message is to live for each day and love the one you're with. They could be gone tomorrow.
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