Life seems a series of serial sets. One set is the set of births, of new beginnings. Another is the set of deaths, the big ones as well as the little. One would be a fool to argue there are not subsets -- little deaths may be on their own -- but there is no doubt such things come again and again.
I experienced one of those little deaths this weekend, and it surprises me how much it hurts.
2 comments:
I am going through this too. Know that the sun will rise tomorrow, if only we can make it through the night.
I am sorry-what happened? Where there a death in the metaphorical, or physcial sense?
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