The usual, taken-for-granted, like breath, life, food, roof, clothes
People whose ordeals seem considerably worse
Problems you used to have, which have mercifully passed away
Loved ones
People you enjoy not seeing anymore
Dreams dashed, proving you didn’t need them anyway
Bare stripped-to-bone clarity about what matters
Hugs from someone who’s been there and lived to tell it
Bafflement from those who will never know this and thus never know wisdom
The sky, blue and cheerful, or pouring blessings on your head, oblivious to pain
The clock, measuring toward the end of all suffering
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Text © Gwyn Nichols 2011
Photo © Stephen Strauss, iStockPhoto #000005667247
Writers' Resort LLC 