It’s late at night, and I’m enjoying my fifth glass of wine. Don’t worry, they’re not big glasses. But so what if they are? Dura vita est. We must find our own way to deal with the pain of life.
I’m thinking of how short life is. My dear little dogs, whom I loved so much. My cat, who has kidney disease (cats get it too often) who is already ill and may not live much longer. My friend Sam who died from bowel cancer when he was just 33. My mother. My father.
We love people or animals, and they love us back, but time, irreparabile fugiensque tempus, takes them away from us, as it eats up our own lives. In the face of loss and sorrow, how do you maintain happiness?
I don’t know. Wine helps. Temporarily.