Nietzche

Soooo.. This week is Nieztche and though I promised to blog about inspiring things, not infuriating/super disheartening things..I had to share this ironic happening today.
I was at the gift of Mary..tending to the house and cooking breakfast for the women there while the sisters were out for mass. I was chitchatting, but as I wiped down the counters I thought in my mind..these are the weak in Nieztche's philosophy. These are the "wretched creatures" from whom he runs away shouting "bad air! bad air!" My heart sunk that someone..not only someone but many people, could adhere to this sort of philosophy. I thought to myself...society creates the weak by very virtue of the fact that the strong are unchecked. Weakness is not born of someone...but unfortunately during my spare time at the kitchen table while the women were sleeping I had to read these angry rattlings.

I sat with a dying woman today..Diane is her name. She was sullen, I managed a smile on her face a couple of times, but other than that she slips in and out of sleep and reality. A sign that the end is near as dementia takes hold. I asked her a couple of questions while I sat on her table to keep her a bit of company while she slowly ate the one egg I scrambled up for her. Do you have any children? A son, she managed to say. Oh how old is he? I asked her. She squinted her eyes with an intent look trying so hard to remember his age, then she faded into nothingness just as soon. I asked her..twenty something? No she said and squinted her eyes again trying with all of her strength at that moment to remember..AIDS was winning, her mind was failing. I had seen it before on other women. The trying so hard to remember something or to put a thought into words, and then..resignation.

As I told my roommate of this experience when I got home I said to her

You know that saddest thing of all is that these women are robbed of being mothers. My eyes filled with tears as I gazed for a moment to the ground thinking of many of the women who shared with me horrible stories of being torn away form their children. One of the most beautiful experiences of being a woman has become for them the most painful...as you will see hardened tough woman become instantly open and vulnerable when they openly grieve over the loss of their child.

I am not sure why I contrasted the two thoughts here. Just that there is more to life and suffering than the rantings of this one angry man... part of me needs to express that as a fight against that ideology.