There is too little time and space, and insufficient words, for me to be able to express to my loved ones how much they mean to me.
But I’ll keep trying… undeterred.
When St Vincent’s Health lectures Australia on alcohol use, alcohol advertising and lockout laws in one of the biggest nanny state pushes in our history, remember they fail to provide reproductive health care in their public hospitals.
Taxpayers provide this Catholic Church institution hundreds of millions of dollars every year to provide care in public hospitals, but women can’t fill their birth control scripts, women cannot have their tubes tied, and women cannot receive a pregnancy termination, in a publicly funded hospital.
Patients often don’t have a choice as to which public hospital they attend, more so in an emergency.
St Vincent’s Health operates four public hospitals, including two of the largest in Melbourne and Sydney.
St Vincent’s Health should not be able deny heath care to the members of the public in a public hospital funded by the public, on the basis of their religious beliefs.
The days when words don’t come easily are growing in number.
I find myself unable to express myself far too often, whether in the public sphere arguing for the rights of others or in private as I try to express my affection.
This scares me.
Sometimes my mind is jumbled and I struggle for clarity, and other times my mind is a void where no words are to be found.
Should I blame this on age, on my advancing middle age? Should I blame this on the increasingly complicated demands of modern life? Should I accept my limitations and realise that despite years of feeling above average, I am just average?
Or should I be kind to myself and let the words come to me when they come to me?
I began this mental amble intending a poem, a reflection of sorts. It has no purpose but to allow my mind to wander. This amble has become a ramble and perhaps I should end it now.
Until next time, when the words come.