Last time we saw her in the coffee shop she’d been unable to sleep because of her aching shoulder. It’s been a week since we’ve been in and yesterday the shoulder had been side-lined by concern for her sick cat, Socks. She clearly feels it. ‘I’ve had him since he was three months old,’ she told us. He can’t swallow.
We all have them, those things that hurt and trouble us, some big, some small. And meanwhile WW3 goes on for the Ukrainians. Yesterday the newsreaders were talking of the digging of mass graves and the request for UK citizens to offer a Ukrainian refugee a room, today it was the shelling of mosque sheltering, amongst others, children. It all matters. The dying, the dead, the fear, the homelessness, the starvation, the abuse, the frustration, the hopelessness and a sick cat. It all matters. And I hold it all, when I can, in my heart, hoping for a resolution, hoping for peace, and an end to suffering.
