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Broken hearted Christmas

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Christmas Eve was spent with a friend and family in the hospital, and late in the evening, we were crying, comforting, and grieving the loss of a loved one. On Christmas Day, what C.S. Lewis said in his book ‘A Grief Observed’ seemed real and true: “For the greater the love, the greater the grief, and the stronger the faith, the more savagely will Satan storm its fortress.”   2023 and 2022 were similar. In 2022, there was the loss of a baby in the womb of a close family friend and the loss of the mother of another friend. As I grow older, the memories of Christmas from yesteryears seem distant. Carols, cakes, celebrations, and gifts are still there but do not seem to make as much sense as they did then. Is it my ageing heart and overly sensitive soul, or is it a season given to us that we must endure and walk through?   But then, for many, Christmas is not about cakes and celebrations. Yesterday, on Christmas Eve, Ukraine was bombed again. People in Gaza, Sudan, Yemen, and Syr...
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The moss, grime and damage

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Unattended parts of walkways exposed to rains in Kerala are potentially dangerous. A few friends faced the wrath of these walkways. Moss grew and made the walkway beautiful to look at, but dangerous to walk on. They fell - thankfully with no major damage. One friend said,  I can bring a pressure pump and wash it away.  But my question was - won’t it grow again? Another said,  Use bleach.  We did, but it gave only minimal, temporary benefit. The third semi-permanent solution was to cover the walkway and protect it from rain, which we tried, but damp groundwater still seeped in. The only permanent solution seems to be taking the stones out and replacing them with moss-resistant stones. But that comes with a cost. We were about to settle for the pressure pump solution - but there were three issues. Water under pressure can damage stones. Moss will grow again. And pressure pumps cost a bit too much! At times, my heart looks a little like those moss-filled pathways, waiti...
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Three Random Conversations

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Yesterday during my evening walk, I ended up having three spontaneous conversations.  Here they are, with some added ramblings.   I visited an elderly uncle who no longer recognised me, repeatedly asking who I was despite our families’ close past relationship. Once a respected technical engineer in the Middle East, he had taught us about energy conservation and sustainability, even implementing solar panels and gardens at his home. Now, he has lost most of his memories but accepts it with a smile, unlike my mother, who struggled for years with her memory loss before eventually becoming unaware of it. Will I...?   As I left the house, I recalled this poem by Bonhoeffer:   “Who am I? This or the other? Am I one person today and tomorrow another? Am I both at once? A hypocrite before others, And before myself a contemptibly woebegone weakling? . . . Who am I? They mock me, these lonely questions of mine. Whoever I am, Thou knowest, O God, I am Thine!”   Does a pers...
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