Soon I'll be turning another year older. As is often the case, the turn of another year finds me reflecting on life. My own. Those I love. Humanity as a whole. I for one never thought I would make it past twenty-five, so I'm surprised to still be here, getting every closer to doubling that number. Sure I've been reflecting on my own past, relieving memories, some good and some bad. I've also been thinking about my future. I wonder how long I will live and what I will see and what will come after I am gone. Since I was born in the 1970's through to today so much has changed. Ultimately, this year, as I'm approaching another year older, I have found myself thinking more and more of my uncle Gerald Clowe. His life has been brought so much into focus for me in the run up to my new age because it was an age he never reached. He's been gone since 1989 when I had just started high school. I remember traveling to Missouri and Kansas for his funeral. As I child, I became painfully aware of death at a young age, so funerals were always terribly somber affairs for me that I felt deeply. I never really knew my uncle. He was eight years older than my mother, his sister, and we never had those strong family bonds that led to get-togethers like some do. I know that my uncle and his siblings did not have an idyllic upbringing and it had left them all with scars. I have heard some stories of my uncle's trials to adulthood and the demons he carried with him. Even though I didn't know him well, I think I understand what he carried with him. It led to his suicide before he reached the year he would have turned 49. I know that some believe those who commit suicide should not or cannot be forgiven. I do not believe that is so. As I know the creator, I cannot believe that there would be no compassion or forgiveness for those who have been cut deeply and unable to find a way to heal. The only thing I would like this year as I turn the page to a year my uncle never knew would be for people to be kind. There has always been hate. There has always been small-mindness. There has always been cruelty. However, in the past few years we seem to have become more entrenched in our own spheres, quick to judge. When I find myself in a moment where I might be quick to judge another or quick to write a nasty comment to another, I try to think of my uncle and how perhaps nothing could save him from his demons, but maybe if kindness had been extended that it might have made a difference, might have been enough. I try to think of the child that hides in the heart of those on the other side of my words and though I might fail too often, I am going to try to choose kindness. Be kind to the child that hides in their hearts,
a tender flame flickering within. In the depths of their being, where vulnerability resides, a world of dreams and innocence unfolds. Behind the masks they wear, the armor they've crafted to survive, a delicate spirit yearns to be seen, to be cherished, to be understood. In the tapestry of their existence, traces of wonder and curiosity reside, seeking refuge from a world that often forgets the beauty of simplicity. Embrace their unspoken stories, the secrets whispered in their sighs, for within their hidden chambers, lies a universe of untold magic. In moments of darkness, extend a hand of compassion, to guide them towards the light, to remind them of their own resilience. Their laughter, a chorus of joy, reverberating through their souls, their tears, a reminder of their tender hearts, yearning for compassion's gentle touch. Nurture the dreams that dance within them, the spark that ignites their passions, for in their uninhibited imagination, lies the potential to reshape the world. In a world that often demands conformity, let kindness be their sanctuary, a refuge where they can unfurl, their true selves without fear of judgment. So, be kind to the child that hides within, with a gentleness that mends and heals, for they carry within them the power, to transform the world with love's embrace. Let compassion be their guiding light, as they navigate life's uncertain paths, for in nurturing the child within, we nourish the essence of our collective soul.
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