Mothers' Instinct

And then someone else would come out with another, even more appalling story: quick, quick, let’s hear about another misfortune that happened to someone else, something that could have happened to us if we were unlucky, although we weren’t.

The wait went on, the seconds ticking away in a tangle of emotions, desperate hope giving way to pitiless anguish. The certainty of being safe from misfortune shatters inexorably, like a splinter being driven into your soul, leaving behind fissures that you try to repair because this sort of thing only happens to other people . . . . And words and pictures come to mind and linger, cruel, unbearable. You close your eyes so as not to see, not to feel, not to think. Pathetic attempts to escape disaster by sheer force of will.

Sadness is a burden that, unlike happiness, cannot be shared.

Don’t think. Sweep away the words, ideas, images swirling endlessly in the infernal dance of pitiless affliction. Push back the realization of an unspeakable truth for another second. Don’t speak. Don’t move. Hold on to the illusion of purpose for a few seconds. And when those seconds are over, start again, an infinite loop.

When the fine weather returns after the long months of winter, it’s like the burst of sunlight at the end of a long, dark tunnel. The horizon clears, our hearts grow warmer, our longings return, and we find ourselves torn between wanting to do a million things and doing nothing at all.

Friendship is a source of strength no one can live without. Everyone needs friends as much as sustenance and sleep. Friendship is nourishment for the soul; it cheers our hearts, feeds our minds, fills us with joy, hope, and peace. Friendship is life’s treasure and the guarantee of a certain kind of happiness.