Perspective

2012 hasn't quite got off to a brilliant start for me in certain ways, not that I am surprised. After three carefree months in Australia, reality was bound to bite...and call more loudly than before to change what I don't like about it. For the record, I'm officially not in the throes of some brutal 40th birthday crisis (yet anyway). Well, more about what has been bugging me at some other time, perhaps.

Last night I called my cleaning lady to ask when she would pick up my spare keys - that I had given to a neighbour to look after my flat and water my plants while I was in Sydney - to resume our biweekly routine. When I asked her how she was she told me that her husband died last Thursday at the age of 51. He was diagnosed with cancer about a year ago and when I left in September I knew that things weren't looking too bright, but I was still deeply shocked. She was really composed and seemed to be coping impressively well as his death basically was a relief for everyone after months of incredible suffering and her husband loosing one vital function after another. When I called, she had been preparing dinner, which in itself is comforting to know.

It was humbling to be reminded that basically all the things we moan about and consider tragedies of sorts are really insignificant in the face of losing someone you love (to death, not to somebody else...).