The Most Savage

It’s easy to be lonely, but, of course, not as easy to endure the state of loneliness,

There are so many steps to heartache, and when you are so consumed with your own plight, you neglect to recognize your companions in pain.

I think it took me decades to accept this reality, and possibly the experience of sharing a residence with another hundred aged souls.

We dine together, we attend lectures and sometimes caravans transport us to various errands as a group,

We smile and discuss the weather. Often a brave soul is tempted to inject politics, but the subject is perilous and not truly welcomed.

Rarely do we mention loneliness yet it is the common denominator not just in one locality but universal for the generation that has been allowed to live longer.

Longevity came with a price, and it has not been paid in full as yet.

There are degrees, all separate and distinct yet tied together with pain defiant of description.

Often our shield is anger that provides a pretense of protection. Of course, the mask is woven of sorrow and threaded with unshed tears.

I often wonder, are we the first generation to be rebuffed by a child? Most likely not.

History might provide answers, but I do believe we were the most naive, always believing in the power of love.

But then we also believed in consequences and punishment, both emotions now close to extinction.

Meanwhile we wear our masks, don the cloak of anger and try to pretend we understand. However, as hard we try, of course, we cannot, and that is probably what causes the most savage emotion, desolation.

Yet I firmly believe hidden in the core is the never ending pulse of Maternal love that defies extinction.