Someone Perfect

Family, all those people who had some connection with one another, however slight, was of such huge importance to one’s well-being. It gave one identity and a sense of belonging. It was the answer to loneliness and any sense of disconnection with the world one inevitably felt at times.

Sometimes one’s prejudices and preconceptions were more enjoyable to cling to than inconvenient facts that pointed in a different direction.

The people who have been central to our lives are always there in us and always will be, even when they are no longer alive and we are not actually thinking about them. We are fortunate if our memories of them, conscious or unconscious, are happy ones. If we know and can feel deep down inside ourselves that they loved us constantly and unconditionally.

When something that needs to be done is impossible to do,” Estelle said, “I have always found that the only possible course of action is to do it anyway.

We have company", Estelle said. The twin, Justin saw when he looked over his shoulder. Standing at the end of the bridge, looking steadily at them. "Tell me," Watley said. "Is this a very late-night walk or an early- morning pilgrimage to watch the sunrise?" His room was next to Estelle's. And they had that odd twin connection even though they were not identical... "Tell me," Justin said. "In what way is the answer to that any of of your business?" Estelle gave a little huff of what might have been laughter. "It is not," Watley said amiably. "I just thought it was a more original conversation opener than a comment upon weather." "Was any conversation opener necessary?" Justin said. "Have you ever heard the one about three being a crowd?" Rather than look abashed, Watley grinned. "You are going to have to get used to it, old chap", he said. "That is my twin whose hands you have trapped against your chest. Whom you were about to kiss, if I'm not much mistaken. In what is now broad daylight. For every servant and house guest to see.

How did you bring yourself to forgive?" he asked her. ..."My father?, she said. It was not terribly difficult, you know. We always longed to do so. At any point in our childhood we would have forgiven him if he had given us the smallest opening". "He deserted you," he said. "Yes," she agreed. "He did. He blamed himself for our mother's death....After her death he did not trust himself to raise us. Then Aunt Jane turned up, confirming his beliefs, taking over very ably and very forcefully." "So he slunk off, he said, "and left you to her for... what 16, 17 years?" "Sixteen," she said. "Yes, he did. He punished himself with a life of riotous.. debauchery. I make no excuses for him. He makes none for himself. Forgiveness does not consist of making excuses for the transgressor, Lord Brandon. It consists in acknowledging the facts, understanding the reasons for them-not the excuses--recognizing the pain it all caused both the one who did those wrongs, and admitting that forgiveness is not something given by the innocent to the guilty. No one is innocent. We all do stupid things, even when we know they are stupid, and even when we know we are causing unhappiness for someone else and for ourselves. Forgiveness is given despite all those things

You do not like children?" she asked him. "Doris's two are of that alarming breed of youngster that awakes at the crack of dawn every day, bursting with energy and demanding to be entertained," he said. "I took them out to the stables this morning, where they made Captain's (dog) acquaintance--I am not sure who was the more ecstatic, he or they--and then came riding with one of my grooms and me. After that they helped brush the horses down & chased Captain around the stable yard before feeding him. I brought them home in plenty of time for their nurse to make them look & smell respectable before the other children, who all slept until a decent hour, were ready for breakfast. I believe I have done my duty by them." Well. She had her answer.