On the whole, the more I read this, the more I - well I'm not sure what think.
"How much you loved"; doesn't this depend, to a very great degree, on how much you are, or have been loved? And however much you are, or have been loved, you have to accept, receive, acknowledge this love. I reckon I've been very lucky in being loved.
How much have I loved? How much have I been loved? a pint? a bucketful? a ton? overflowing? totally? completely? for now? for ever? for always?
How do you measure "how much"? How much is enough? As he always says, "quantify!"
I love my family, my wider family, my friends, the people I know. I'm not sure how much I love them - it has never been put to the test. I hope that I love them completely, totally, forever. How much is that? Miles? Vats? Lots?
How gently you lived
I'm living very fiercely at the moment.
I'm fighting to keep my health, my levels of activity. I'm fighting to keep my optimism. I'm fighting off attempts to be looked after in ways that I feel will undermine my ability to stay active and functional;
"Don't you feel you are doing too much?" "NO!"
"Isn't it time you stared to cut back a little" "NO!"
I asked the consultant what I should do; conserve the functionality I had left, or is it a case of "use it or lose it?" He was most emphatic - "Use it or lose it" was his answer.
I'm also fighting the hunger battle with steroids. I'm so grateful for a friend, who warned me that steroids can make you feel hungry when really, you don't NEED to eat at that moment. I'm full of sympathy for a woman I met at the last hospital visit, who has put on three stone in eight months "It's the steroids, they make you put on weight". She's in a dreadful way - too heavy to get about and do exercise, but desperately needing to lose that weight in order to stay active.
So please don't say "go on, there's nothing on you, go on, have another piece of cake, you don't need to diet". I'm not dieting, I'm working at staying the same!
How gracefully you let go of things not meant for you
Yes, this one makes sense. The gifts and talents that I possess have evolved over time, and if I had relentlessly gripped onto what I felt was important, I think my life would have been the poorer.
I'm not the same person that I was as a teenager, or when I was 20 and got married, or 30 and had children, or 40 and started piano teaching, or 50 and started classroom teaching.
And it's not just how gracefully I let go; but it's also how gracefully I have been given space and encouragement to change, evolve, mature, grow, by my loving family.