A sad leave-taking
On May 11, I was surprised to see an obituary for Nuala O’Faolain. I knew nothing about her except what I had read in her memoir, Are You Somebody?, a touching and devestating account of a mean and meager Irish upbrining. She died of lung cancer at the age of sixty-eight. At the end of her life she had this to say in a radio interview:
“I thought there would be me and the world, but the world turned its back on me,” she said. “The world said to me, ‘That’s enough of you now, and what’s more, we’re not going to give you any little treats at the end.’ ”
An enormously sad farewell that I have thought of often in the last week–a degree of hopelessness one wishes no one had to feel in dying. So too, what of the victims stranded and trapped in Burma and China?