Books. Bikes. Boomsticks.
"Hige sceal þe heardra, heorte þe cenre, mod sceal þe mare, þe ure mægen lytlað…"
Hey, the deal is quality, not quantity. They had seven good years added on, and all good things end sometime. When the party's over, it's time to go home.Art
Sometimes, if a person lives long enough, the time comes when the struggle to stay alive just becomes too hard.All they see ahead of them is deterioration, loneliness, and/or pain (physical and/or emotional. Further, they see no end to this, short of the grave.At this point, some just give up the struggle.It's not always the loss of a loved one (although that seems the most common). It's almost never just one thing alone, but rather one thing that severs as the 'final straw' to bring the realization of everything crashing in.I've seen it all too often, and it never fails to sadden me. Not just at the loss of a human being, but also because I can understand their feelings (even if I don't share them - at least, not yet). FWIW, most that 'give up' seem to do so without fear and with if not joy, at least peace.
it is better to have loved and lost than never to have loved at all. at least he did.
A great story. We lost one of ours a couple days ago. She fought the good fight from the age of 3. She was the only survivor(of 100 children) of a round of experimental treatments for childhood leukemia. There are literally thousands of people alive today because of what doctors learned in her successful treatment in the early 70s. She didn't quite make it to 40 but she packed a lot of life into those years.
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