Suffering

One Sunday after Mass an old man, almost as old as my father was before he died, came to me and began to tell me about the death of his sister and how he missed her. He clearly expressed how sad and alone he felt since her death. Indeed, in telling the story he became agitated and began to repeat himself.

It's nor easy, standing at the back of a church, to engage with a stranger for any length of time. And yet it was clear this man simply wanted to tell his story. It was his life he was talking about.

The pain that people can experience seems at times insufferable. And we can run about so often so easily oblivious to the sufferings of people. Then when it hits us at a personal level our worlds collapse.

Who cares? Husbands and wives, sisters and brothers, friends. Maybe.