Since it is only get to get even worse, I help Mummy up and down the stairs, switching on her oxgen machine, trying to think how happy I am. When I am with her, the only good thing is now. And even when I leave and come home I pinch myself saying 'aren't you lucky, she is still with us'. Normal tribulations are smaller and something of a relief even in this context. So I think what the hell if the phone that hasn't been fixed for the last four months isn't fixed for another four months? All that time I can concentrate on a nice little thing, shelving any greater concerns for moments of total quiet. Or, maybe I could so fill up my life with little worries, that I would never ever have the total quiet. You sort of wonder if this isn't why humans are so naturally worried. What a handy emotion ! You can scoop it up, about widening cracks in the wall, leaks that need fixing, children's schooling, wrinkles or whatever someone else thinks they can worry you about and conveniently forget the whole wretched business of life, and death. So thank God for worries. Bring them on! I should find myself a few more of them!