אנו חוזרים ומדגישים כמה אנו אוהבים את ההורים שלנו. ואם הם לא בחיים על אחת כמה וכמה , לא כך בשנותיהם האחרונות שהיינו כל כך עסוקים ולהכניס הילד לגן להוציא אותו מהגן ללכת לנסיעה הזאת הזאת להשתלמות כזאת בעבודה.
עד כמה היינו שם בשבילם בבדידות שלהם האם היינו שם בשנות הזקנה והנטישה שלהם או אפשרנו להם לשקוע בשקט בשקט
אנו חוזרים ומדגישים כמה אנו אוהבים את ההורים שלנו. ואם הם לא בחיים על אחת כמה וכמה , לא כך בשנותיהם האחרונות שהיינו כל כך עסוקים ולהכניס הילד לגן להוציא אותו מהגן ללכת לנסיעה הזאת הזאת להשתלמות כזאת בעבודה.
עד כמה היינו שם בשבילם בבדידות שלהם האם היינו שם בשנות הזקנה והנטישה שלהם או אפשרנו להם לשקוע בשקט בשקט
Old Age Home
- מרץ 29, 2023
- 4 minute read
- No comments
We are all believe that we are born in order to live.
We dedicate our life to the grate journey and stimulation of being alive. We are swapped by the up going and down going waves of our depressions and hi spirit, one day like this and one day like that.
We living our life totally dedicated to this up going and down going of our life.
We look at it as a grate journey and not only as a journey as a big mountain to climb and to achieve the wonderful amazing things that life can offer us and we run on this mountain towards the top, ripping whatever we can find on the way.
We are so dazzled and so over taken by the sharp terns of the journey that we are totally identified with it, whatever is good is grate and whatever is bad is horrible and we all the time dedicate our life to achievement’s. To achieve, to achieve more than our neighbors it’s a big race and we must win.
We think in our foolishness that’s life itself, its journey and its promises is the real thing and more we dedicate our life to its ups and downs the more alive we become.
We are drunk by life. Dazzled by what it have to offer, completely identified whit what is happening to us.
All this is come to say that whiles we are so immerse in what is happening to us we forget that it’s only a temporary journey that start one day and time is finishing it bit by bit until we grow older and less capable , we forget the end.
We are so caught by the net of what life has to offer, we forget that life is only a journey towards its finishing line. We don’t think about it, we forget about it, we push it down so over taken and identifying whit what is happening to our petty little life that we forget that every day which passes we are becoming less, every day which passes we are older, less capable and more close to the final crescendo.
The thought that the end might reach us like it reach our fathers and mothers seems like a nightmare to us completely unreal, it happened to them but it is so far from happening to us. So far that we look at it as an imagination and one day its must come, one day all this journey white its ups and downs and misleading illusionary promises must come to a hold.
As much as we deny it we can’t get read of it because it will reach us in the end. And when the end comes it is so miserable, so undegnefight, it happened to us and we completely helpless forgetting all the dedication that we had before, crumbling like a helpless flower into our approaching death. Don’t have even the smallest power of resistant, of staying against and saying I will die a dignified death, its true that i leave a mingles life but at list my death could be dignified.
It was the grate Beethoven that was subconscious for a few days before he died and people surround him testified that when he was just about to close his eyes he raised his fist against haven whit the last gesture of protests and then he close his eyes.
We don’t know how to depart. We know how to begin, we know how to continue, we know how to survive but when it comes to our on end we just perish in a miserable way like we never lived before.
There might be parting from the dear ones but no one is rising one last first as protest against haven like grate Beethoven did.
Do not go gentle into that good night
Dylan Thomas
1914 – 1953
Do not go gentle into that good night,
Old age should burn and rave at close of day;
Rage, rage against the dying of the light.
Though wise men at their end know dark is right,
Because their words had forked no lightning they
Do not go gentle into that good night.
Good men, the last wave by, crying how bright
Their frail deeds might have danced in a green bay,
Rage, rage against the dying of the light.
Wild men who caught and sang the sun in flight,
And learn, too late, they grieved it on its way,
Do not go gentle into that good night.
Grave men, near death, who see with blinding sight
Blind eyes could blaze like meteors and be gay,
Rage, rage against the dying of the light.
And you, my father, there on the sad height,
Curse, bless, me now with your fierce tears, I pray.
Do not go gentle into that good night.
Rage, rage against the dying of the light.
Gabriel Raam
28.3.23
Gabriel