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I can no other answer make but thanks, and thanks, and ever thanks.
There was a time -an admittedly naïve time- when I assumed it was not only polite to thank somebody if they did something for me, but rude and ungrateful if I neglected this common courtesy. I still feel that way, of course, but of late I’ve wondered whether constant thanking dulls its effect: if every…
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A giving hand, though foul, shall have fair praise
I’d like to think I’m generous; I may not have as much to contribute as Bill Gates, but I have to hope it’s the thought that counts, not the amount. Still, there has always been a nagging feeling that I could give more if I were -what?- more aware of the needs of others? More…
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Normal is an illusion
When we are very young, asking the question of whether or not we are normal would be unlikely: we are all different. Unless we are twins, we don’t look much like the others with whom we play; we act differently, have varied preferences, and often exhibit our unique personalities when reacting to things we encounter.…
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Derivative Anger
I bumped into a Jessica the other day. She was standing at a corner of a busy street waiting for the little man to light up on the crosswalk sign. I hadn’t seen her for ages, but apart from the inevitable tell-tale wrinkles of a maturing face, she looked the same as she had when…
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Fit Philosophy
As some of my more dogged readers might remember, my mother once cautioned me about the folly of pursuing Philosophy instead of Medicine at University. Every mother, it seems, has dreams of their offspring becoming doctors, or lawyers -well, some societally respected career, at least- but her reasons seemed particularly pointed. “Even if you get…
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And thereby hangs a tale
As I have begun to sense the shadows of my still unfolding epilogue, I’ve also come to appreciate the stories we elders tell to those around us. They do not always contain great wisdom, perhaps, and yet they bespeak the years of experience that have brought us this far. Sometimes, Age can teach the personal…
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Some relish the saltiness of Time
There are some things that have always filled me with wonder: the flash of colours in the garden as a hummingbird hesitates in a sunbeam, then disappears leaving only memory in its wake; the slow patient lap of waves from who knows where arriving as guests at the door of a tiny beach; the worried…
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I’ll note you in my book of memory
As I rattle slowly through the years, I find that I am spending increasing time with my memories. I’m told that even the best ones change the more they are recalled -they are not videotapes, or even photographs stored in albums inside my head- but still, they will suffice. I do not need much detail…
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Here’s ado to lock up honesty
We are always on stage aren’t we? Always actors in a changing play. I am elderly now, but still amazed at the parts I am expected to play. I was a doctor once -or is that a permanent role with permanent obligations?- so to some, there is still an expectation of lingering wisdom that I…
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The Raven himself is hoarse
Now that Time is exacting an increasing toll upon my ears, I’m beginning to become more sensitive to sounds. Not better able to hear them, of course, but more appreciative of what there is to hear; simple things that before would have passed unnoticed in the day, are suddenly treasures: the ringing timbre of a…
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musings on women's health 