Reading the comments, and seeing how many people have parents or grandparents who suffered from deme…

Reading the comments, and seeing how many people have parents or grandparents who suffered from dementia and all that. Brought me to tears. 😭 It reminded me of a poem I love: Everyone in the world has their own pain. But whose is worse? Who can say? There's the bitterness of a dried-up stream. There's the pain of a seed that won't lie in the furrow, Of rains that shatter against rocks, And of a tree that gives warmth. It seems to let go, to pass, But a moment later, it hurts even more! Each of us has our own pain. And I think about this involuntarily. Here you are, walking with your eyes downcast — So, it means you're hurting for a reason too. And I don't blame anyone for this... What about the pain of things? It's similar to human pain. Both the anvil and the fire hurt, And the hammer that struck too. How it hurts the bread lying in the dust, And the ears of grain cut down too soon. The forgotten path — bypassed again! — And the lonely apple tree. How it hurts the shedding forests, When the wind tears off the leaves... Only the one who brings pain upon themselves, Perhaps, doesn't feel pain.