Recenze Ahead of Time

Introduction When one reaches old age, one quite often observes that one's former understanding of and sympathy with the outside world have undergone a radical change. Those things we once considered all important become, with the passing of time, simply irrelevant. Even very intelligent younger people place a great deal of importance on things which seem to us almost trivial when measured against the history of humanity. This new perspective is, I think, an attribute of becoming old. In the course of my life, I have had to endure extremely testing situations and upheavals. Now that I can boast a very mature age, I can say that there are some things that have always remained constant: the deep love I bear for my husband, David, and my children, Reuven and Daphne, and the love I feel for long absent friends - these are emotions which time can never erase. I feel privileged by fate that I had a husband, a son and a daughter, and that I had the opportunity to experience the wonderful satisfaction of caring for one's own family. And now that I am a great grandmother, I can say that I am truly blessed. Because I have given much love, I have found that many acquaintanceships have developed into great friendships - and I am happy to say that I have many friends. But living so long has also brought me much pain. This is the other side of the coin. I have outlived all my immediate family: my husband, both my children, my parents and many friends - apart from my older sister. The pain one feels at losing a child is always with me. The same pain greets me when I see a book my husband liked, or even if I find an old knife and fork belonging to my children lying in a drawer. This pain will never leave me, I know, but in spite of this, I derive great comfort from the steadfast love I continue to have for my family. My daughter, Daphne, suffered terribly from manic depression for five decades, and had terrifying episodes - but I never left her when she needed me. We passed through difficult times, and I know that even at my most desperate, I still helped her as much as I was able. And I was always there for my son, Reuven. Now the memories come thicker and faster than ever. Some I have written in an earlier book, and in their repetition here, I have tried to convey my gratitude for the steadfast love and grace which pervaded my childhood. This, I am sure, gave me the resilience and fortitude to bear the later tragedies of my life, and enables me to treasure still the miracles of nature and the positive events that happen to me. Memories can hurt very much, and sometimes I think that only the sun rising in a blue sky, heralding a lovely new day, makes my life bearable. Memories of my grandparents, their own journeys through life and the impression they made on me have been formative. Although I have written particular stories about them in detail in my previous book, I feel that this account would not be complete without a general description of how they still inhabit my imagination, with their courage, their drive for happiness and their zest for life. schovat popis