Terminally ill people warned over possible benefit cut
We know it's coming.
Not just to the terminally ill who can't be made well to a time limit. But to those with illnesses that can't be wished away in a year for the convenience of those who bled away the resources others were stewarding respectfully.
We know it's coming.
Faster than the cures for our illnesses.
Faster than the grim reaper can ride.
Faster than enough jobs can be created that the fit and strong can do.
Faster than adaptations of working conditions for the sick and weak with disabling, fluctuating long-term illnesses can be devised.
The politicians of all parties who have devised the Welfare Reform Bill with the one-year-and-you're-on-your-own rider to the Employment Support Allowance, don't hear anything coming. They're not even listening. They hope their own needs will never outstrip their ability to legislate.
Every day the dreaded envelopes flop onto doormats. The letters that herald the day that the innocent, the genuinely sick and those crushed by circumstances they never courted, never expected, yet honestly and hard-workingly paid their taxes towards, comes creeping up on every last one of us.
But I won't despair. I still have that luxury!
I've always lived within my modest means. I sit on second hand furniture bought cheaply when I was still working and could have afforded better. My choice, I'm not needing applause! My mum inspires my way of being. Simple stuff matters to me. I count myself blessed.
Few things I own are new or flash or worth stealing, let alone fretting over. As even those basic things like food and heat get less and less affordable, I'm adapting. What's the alternative I could live with? If those I've tried to be a useful friend to while ever I could, can help, they will. If not, I will starve and shiver with no regrets. Why would I regret what others have on their own conscience or not? Things I can't change by indignant bluster?
Nobody can make you bitter or feel guilty if you are not. They will try. We know they will try. But if you let them change your heart and chip away your joy and resilience, they really have won, haven't they?
Even if I end up in the gutter, you won't stop me looking at the stars.
Till then, on behalf of compassion, respect and all that's good and beautiful, I will quietly fight on.
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