The other night, when work was keeping me a busy bee, I came to the conclusion my client went beyond triste incurabilis. There are times, I’ve learned to accept, that my prayers are what I can only offer and no medicine in the world could cure what ails them. A broken heart, one missing vital parts that once made it skip beats, can be the most challenging complaint I am familiar with, but would not know how to fix on others.
My older client’s spouse passed away and was seeking help to mend and remove the pain. When the treatment of talking it out was offered and I was about to discharge, the tears were tripled in extent because someone had stolen the smartphone that contained the last pictures and happy moments they as a couple shared.
When people took from me, I would forgive and say they needed it more. I am a loving person. However, at that moment, I have no love for that thief.