But, sadly, this is not how it oftentimes is, with my dear mother, as she continues to reflect, to recount how much better things were, in the early years.
And how difficult people were, then, as she still perceives them to be, now. How the world is not getting better, which many of us can agree with.
And so my dear mother continues to live her life, seemingly expecting that all should be well with and for her.
And having less tolerance towards the prevalent afflictions of aches and pains, deteriorating mobility and agility, and the limited success of those of her fellow humans.
Whom she expects to banish such afflictions from her life. As if they are miracle-workers, and not of the fallible species of humans to which she belongs.
Not, it seems to me, sufficiently displaying the wisdom which, had she been learning the lesson which life teaches, is that, the final healer of a terminally failing body, is death.
But, as I have already observed, all is not, and probably will never be lost.
Because my dear mother continues to have her 'good and bad states.' Times when she, noticeably is not bemoaning all that is wrong with the world, with her, with me and with others.
To be continued!
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