Everyone has a story. It would be foolish indeed to make comparisons, for there is always someone better or worse off than oneself. However, there is a comforting and healing sense of kinship with others who have had similar experiences. Even death, that, which we call the last act of our play, does not end a story. Everyone who has existed, no matter how briefly, affects someone else for the rest of their life. They affect others and so the story goes on and on. Perhaps, when grief and heartache isolates us, we forget this. We cannot always control what touches our lives. We do all have the gift of choice. We can choose how we are going to allow ourselves to be affected. Bitterness seeps in unnoticed if we are not vigilant and sours everything we do, think and say. There is much to be learned from watching how Mother Nature heals the wounds inflicted by uncaring, thoughtless mankind. By watching others, we can use them as an example of how we do, or don't, want to be. The choice is ours. Even no decision is a decision. Whether we like it or not, we are all, ultimately, responsible for ourselves. It is not such a bad thing to visualise the kind of person we want to be and work towards that. I believe implicitly, by doing this, what is right for me will always come, when it is right for me...