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to struggle。
Resentment gave way to devotion。 I became her faithful servant sunning myself in her glory; she my loyal supporter boosting my fragile self。 It was a friendship made in heaven; forged for life。
Sadly; like many flares burning brightly; hers was not made to last。 Shortly after her nineteenth birthday; without warning; she died。
It struck me then as absurd that; of the two of us; she should be the one who perished; while I was the one who was spared。 I had always regarded her as the one who was privileged; myself as the one deprived。
I thought of my former envy and realised that; since we don’t know what’s in store for any of us; envy is never justified。
A friend of mine had been tyrannised by a formidable mother since the day she was born。 She lived under an emotional terror…reign; where guilt was the main offensive weapon。 It seemed she couldn’t blink an eye without causing her mother to be hurt; upset; annoyed; distressed or worse。
“I can’t take any more;” she told me in despair。 “My whole life is spent apologising to my mother。”
“It has to stop;” I agreed。 “You are an adult independent woman。 It’s time you told her once and for all that her emotions are her own responsibility。 No one has a right to blame others for what they feel。”
She heeded my advice。 The message; apparently; was received with ice…cold equanimity。
Some time later; my friend gave a recital – she is a very talented musician。 Her mother; as usual; attended; and afterwards; with relish; pulled her daughter’s performance to pieces; adding; for good measure; quotes from the audience: scathing; humiliating remarks that she purported to have overheard in the ladies’ room。
Her sweet; gentle daughter burst into tears。 “Mummy;