What is your idea of Hell ?

I hear you, Sorceress. A while ago, in Florida, I lived in a Gated Community with so many seniors. Everything was slow, the conversations turned around doctor visits, poodle grooming, and events in the Clubhouse. The men enjoyed Golfing every morning, the women chatted around the Community Pool.

Looking back, it was not exactly Hell, but "out of place". Although I matched them in the age group, the mentality was too confined with old age concerns.

Now, in much less glamorous circumstances, I feel good. (Home is where the heart is.)

Yes is is certainly hell. Makes one wonder why they would have a reason to complain when they have their health and strength. We have so many things to be thankful for...

I get what you're saying Dig, but the question was what's your idea of Hell. Sure we all have things to be thankful for every day and believe me, I thank my Gods and Goddesses when I'm down, remembering how good they've been to me.
I think tho, we all live a personal piece of Hell. Really, Hell to me is every Christmas. My Dad died in my arms on Christmas Eve. He had cancer, and I took care of him at home. He was the third to pass in a years time for my family and then they were gone. My brother, my mother then him. To this day, I cannot celebrate the holidays. That's my real Hell on Earth. My entire family taken from me just like that.

Yes Sorceress, your Hell is real Hell as well. I was just thinking today that if my dad were alive he would be 93 years old. It's hard to move on without them especially during the holidays when its supposed to be a festive time of year.

I decided about 7 or 8 years ago that I cannot complain about one thing. I decided that when I took the school system to court and won, nothing else was of any importance after that win.
I can think of many other Hellish situations but just the thought of them makes me anxious.

Years ago, I got a call that my 8 year old nephew had died after being hit by a taxi driver while riding a skateboard. My brother, his Dad, went to the cemetery every single day for a year afterward because he felt guilt. He felt that he should have been there, instead of at work, he should have been at home keeping his son safe. Living the reality of losing a child is Hell, even if its not your own.

You got that right, Dig. I'm so sorry to hear about this tragic loss in your family. Hopefully your brother has a good support system. It's so true, that this sort of loss is something people don't truly ever get over. And I'm sure a parent's feeling of guilt is normal, even if it is irrational. Because children have to live their lives, parents have to work, and the world is an unpredictable place. Nothing is permanant and so much is out of our control.

Dear Dulcemio, I have sometimes wondered about your signature, elsewhere,
"Rage, rage against the dying of that light ..."
and it expresses a feeling of helplessness as we get older. That is a beautiful poem.
The older we get, the shorter the good days become.

Yes, and that quote is all the more pertinent, (though being used for comic effect in conjuction with "and always smell as nice as possible") as it was used in a fictional work about characters who achieve immortality (using real science, by the way). If I have learned anything from the older generation of my family, it's to always keep moving. Stay calm and carry on.

Actually, Pipette, I've never thought of that poem as expressing helplessness. I think it's telling us not to let our lives wind down and slow down just because we get old, but to live to the fullest right up to the end.

Having to smell "Kinski" ever again.

I surely will never be able to sin so much as to deserve that for a second time.

My idea of hell would be to get stuck in a lift with a sheep.
Bad, very baahaad.

Hell for you Dolby
Heaven for some folks. Baaaaaahahahahahahaha
Did I say that.

Heaven for who/what exactly clever clog?
Other sheep?
Baaaaahahhahah right back at ya.