Friday, 19 October 2018

A Morbid Post

A lot of people I know, some family, some friends, have been sick with life changing/threatening illnesses this year. It has prompted thoughts about the meaning of life, why are we here? Has my stay on planet earth been meaningful enough... should I have to leave suddenly?  Stuff like that. A bit morbid maybe .... (you were warned in the title) okay.. heads up .. THIS IS A MORBID POST!



As I watch people I care about cope with terrible health situations and face the prospect of a shortened lifespan and daily pain and discomfort I wonder if I would be so brave or so cheerful. We never know until we are tested I guess. I hope not to be tested in such a fashion.



In the abstract, death can be turned into something meaningful, poetic even. But in reality it is very hard to maintain any surety about what comes next. All we can know is that it is a natural part of life and so perhaps we have nothing to fear at all. But understanding that as an intellectual concept is quite different from actually believing it and then facing it without fear. What we tend to do is pretend that death doesn’t exist and we live our lives as though there is no tomorrow. This is evident in our crappy stewardship of planet earth.



You know when Elon Musk sent his car up into space and I saw on tv all these really excited youngsters smiling and laughing and getting enthusiastic about science - that’s all well and good (and I know there was a valid scientific reason for the whole exercise) BUT my overriding thought was that humans are just going to trash space (fill it with junk that future generations will have to deal with) just like we have trashed the earth. If he had then sent up a recovery vehicle (the AA 🤣😂) to retrieve it then I might have applauded with the rest. If we ever do get to Mars we will no doubt start straight away to spoil it. It seems to be what we do. We have no self control and no discipline at all!

So in spite of what I thought were significant changes to our lifestyle it seems that it wasn’t enough to turn the tide of global warming. We set off to the supermarket in a bit of a mood determined to do better at eliminating plastic from our trolley only to be defeated yet again. There may be options for buying packaging free in the uk but in this part of Spain... nope... we shall starve.


And so I come to my last bit of news and the real reason for the air of despondency surrounding this post. Our 16 year old cat and valued family member Molly has stomach cancer. There is no treatment recommended given her age and the advanced stage of the disease. We have brought her home to pamper her, make her comfortable and pray that nature will whisk her away in her sleep and relieve us of the responsibility of choosing the right moment. It’s unlikely we shall get away so lightly.



 So what do I do?  My craft work, wool, yarn and fabric have always been my solace.  While working on a project my mind wanders and my imagination soars. So I turn to my crochet hook and some recycled fabric (sadly synthetic) and I made a funerary basket for when the time comes.



No.. I’m still feeling miserable, because its synthetic it isn’t going to biodegrade for centuries..

2 comments:

  1. Your gloom echoes my gloom, your thoughts my thoughts. Life does feel rather stupid and pintless at the moment. I am sorry that your poor cat is dying and I wish for swiftness for her. Thank you for such an honest post.

    ReplyDelete
    Replies
    1. Hi Rebecca, thank you for commenting.. misery does like company. The saddest thing is that gloom inhibits positive action so I really hope this passes soon. Our little Molly is not giving up.. perhaps this is the positive we should take from this..

      Delete

You must register to comment - anonymous comments are no longer accepted on this site - sorry I know it's a pain to register for yet another account and remember yet another password but I just got too much spam mail ... I do love to hear from people who read my blog so a big thank you to those who make the effort.