Showing posts with label illness. Show all posts
Showing posts with label illness. Show all posts

Friday, May 22, 2026

Hamnet and the Sorrow of Loss

Personal reflections after a film…

Jessie: Losing a son at thirteen… it’s a devastation that never fully settles. Watching Agnes lose Hamnet felt like watching myself from a distance.
Paul: For me it was similar. My son is still alive—forty‑five now—but the boy he was disappeared when he was fifteen. The schizophrenia‑like symptoms took him somewhere I can’t follow.
Jessie: You’ve said before it feels like living with a ghost.
Paul: Thirty years of it. A ghost of a son who once laughed, once argued, once dreamed. The film stirred that ache again, the ache of losing someone who still breathes.
Jessie: That’s a particular kind of sorrow. People don’t always understand that kind of loss.
Paul: They think grief requires a funeral. But grief can be a long corridor with no door at the end. But Shakespeare, his way was to write through it. That struck me. I’ve spent years trying to make sense of my son’s disappearance into illness, trying to understand something from it.
Jessie: The film seemed to suggest a way to hold sorrow without being crushed by it.
Paul: Yes. The ending especially. The way grief became a kind of offering, a way to honour the child rather than drown in the loss.
Jessie: I found myself thinking: maybe devastation can be rearranged. Not erased, but rearranged into something that lets us keep walking.
Paul: That’s what I felt too. That my son’s ghost doesn’t have to haunt me; he can accompany me. Not as absence, but as a presence transformed.
Jessie: And that love doesn’t vanish with the child. It just changes its shape, like water flowing.
Paul: Shakespeare said, “Give sorrow words.”
Jessie: And, “The rest is silence.”  Knowing that silence, too, can be a kind of healing.
_________
Voice-over
Overtones of Ophelia. Her drowning, being pulled under by loss, was perhaps a metaphor for Hamnet succumbing to a fever. And the film adding themes of parental grief, absence, and giving sorrow shape through art.

Sunday, February 4, 2024

Progress of a cold

Cough, cough…

Umeko: How long have you had it?

Hachiko: A week.

Umeko: Not Covid?

Hachiko: Nope. I tested.

Umeko: Began with a sore throat?

Hachiko: Then a runny nose which progressed down into the lungs. Now this cough.

Lulu! Attack!
_________

Voice-over

Pickled plums, honey, radish, ginger, lemon, okayu together with Kakkonto for the beginning of a cold. If that doesn’t work, then you need Pabron, Lulu, Bufferin, Eve, Stona or any of the many pharmaceutical symptom-specific options. Stay hydrated.

Sunday, September 17, 2023

Old house, old car, old body


Objects vs humans…

Erik: In some ways, we humans are just objects, like houses or cars.

Olga: It’s a bit extreme.

Erik: Well houses get old, develop problems. Electrical appliances conk put, leaks appear, floors rot. After a series of these it becomes too expensive to fix them.

Olga: Yes, like cars. The electricals go, the suspension goes, the transmission. Scrap it.

Erik: So our bodies follow a similar pattern. The digestion slows and needs intervention, organs fail, cancer appears. 

Erik: Individuals sometimes call time themselves.

Olga: So you're saying scrap someone with too many health issues?

_________

Voice-over


A doctor might gently say to a patient, “Well, we aren’t getting any younger, are we.” Maybe soon an AI app will make the judgement on whether it’s worth intervening. But then, when multiple health issues co-occur, maybe we should remember someone like Henry Kissinger, who at 100 years old, who has difficulty walking, can still deliver sense on how China and the US need to responsibly deal with each other. A life of worth.