Seeing the Point

So often we question the point of activities, people, places, objects activities.  The last couple of weeks have been quite difficult ones.  First of all there was all the upset over the state of Blip and the outpouring of love and concern from so many people for something that to many people around us seems to have no point at all but conversely for many of us means a lifeline, a sympathetic reader, a friend, a place to be self.  

Then there was being 60 and the pondering over things past and things still to come and the thoughts about why these milestone birthdays become significant markers in our lives when 60 is just another number and what is the point of making a big fuss about it?

And then there are my dear friends:  Bob and Yvonne. I weep for them.  And I ask what is the point of the joy of their painfully short married happiness and time together when Bob will now receive only palliative care as his brain tumour takes aggressive hold of him.  I weep and cling to the vestiges of understanding, the search for the point in such suffering and sadness.

And then there is my sister who is losing the use of her left leg and has had an emergency operation today to try to release the pressure on the sciatic nerve.  Her MS is compounding the situation.  And my parents who are struggling to understand where their comfortable world has gone...

So here is the Hospital, shining like a beacon of modern technology, offering some hope and comfort, visible for miles, helping many see the point.

“I may not have gone where I intended to go, but I think I have ended up where I needed to be.” 
― Douglas Adams, The Long Dark Tea-Time of the Soul