I just laid my granddaughter to bed, and she looked with her hopeful trusting eyes on mine, and her smile filled me with an enormous sadness.
My thoughts have been on you too much. Much too much. These are my thoughts at this moment. Tomorrow, hopefully, this sadness will have passed away, but right now they are overwhelming.
However much I may loath both you, one thing I grant you: Immortality.
Within the living, and whilst you live, you’ll be a permanent reminder that although the purest of all loves is the one between parent and offspring, the human being can be so evilly distorted beyond the unthinkable, and yet you materialize that apparent impossibility.
Within the living, after you’ve gone, your name will be used as an example that nothing is impossible in human relations, and that shame, decency, honesty and responsibility, among other noble sentiments, are nothing but abstract concepts made up by naïve and foolish people.
On the other hand, you’ll always remind us that profit is, well, highly profitable, as long as you’re LUCKY enough to find the right product to sell.
In the hereafter, I do believe that Immortality awaits you.
I just hope a rightfully painful one, directly related with the pain you may have inflicted upon your daughter, when she was dying, and when she was dead.
May my thoughts be completely offmark. But the gloom that I feel in the depth of my heart, says otherwise.
If I were you, I would pray. Pray very, very hard indeed.
Not for forgiveness (that too) but for physical immortality, for the one that waits you there is only Truth, and doesn’t seem to be, for you, ever, a nice place to travel to, especially with such a heavy luggage.
Immortality is yours. Granted.
But you’ve lost the delicious mortality that the remainder of us enjoys everyday.
Just thoughts out of the top of my head.
Would bid you a good-night, but, as you’ve come to know, hypocrisy is not within my many capabilities.
My thoughts have been on you too much. Much too much. These are my thoughts at this moment. Tomorrow, hopefully, this sadness will have passed away, but right now they are overwhelming.
However much I may loath both you, one thing I grant you: Immortality.
Within the living, and whilst you live, you’ll be a permanent reminder that although the purest of all loves is the one between parent and offspring, the human being can be so evilly distorted beyond the unthinkable, and yet you materialize that apparent impossibility.
Within the living, after you’ve gone, your name will be used as an example that nothing is impossible in human relations, and that shame, decency, honesty and responsibility, among other noble sentiments, are nothing but abstract concepts made up by naïve and foolish people.
On the other hand, you’ll always remind us that profit is, well, highly profitable, as long as you’re LUCKY enough to find the right product to sell.
In the hereafter, I do believe that Immortality awaits you.
I just hope a rightfully painful one, directly related with the pain you may have inflicted upon your daughter, when she was dying, and when she was dead.
May my thoughts be completely offmark. But the gloom that I feel in the depth of my heart, says otherwise.
If I were you, I would pray. Pray very, very hard indeed.
Not for forgiveness (that too) but for physical immortality, for the one that waits you there is only Truth, and doesn’t seem to be, for you, ever, a nice place to travel to, especially with such a heavy luggage.
Immortality is yours. Granted.
But you’ve lost the delicious mortality that the remainder of us enjoys everyday.
Just thoughts out of the top of my head.
Would bid you a good-night, but, as you’ve come to know, hypocrisy is not within my many capabilities.