to　struggle。

Resentment　gave　way　to　devotion。　I　became　her　faithful　servant　sunning　myself　in　her　glory；　she　my　loyal　supporter　boosting　my　fragile　self。　It　was　a　friendship　made　in　heaven；　forged　for　life。

Sadly；　like　many　flares　burning　brightly；　hers　was　not　made　to　last。　Shortly　after　her　nineteenth　birthday；　without　warning；　she　died。

It　struck　me　then　as　absurd　that；　of　the　two　of　us；　she　should　be　the　one　who　perished；　while　I　was　the　one　who　was　spared。　I　had　always　regarded　her　as　the　one　who　was　privileged；　myself　as　the　one　deprived。

I　thought　of　my　former　envy　and　realised　that；　since　we　don’t　know　what’s　in　store　for　any　of　us；　envy　is　never　justified。

A　friend　of　mine　had　been　tyrannised　by　a　formidable　mother　since　the　day　she　was　born。　She　lived　under　an　emotional　terror…reign；　where　guilt　was　the　main　offensive　weapon。　It　seemed　she　couldn’t　blink　an　eye　without　causing　her　mother　to　be　hurt；　upset；　annoyed；　distressed　or　worse。

“I　can’t　take　any　more；”　she　told　me　in　despair。　“My　whole　life　is　spent　apologising　to　my　mother。”

“It　has　to　stop；”　I　agreed。　“You　are　an　adult　independent　woman。　It’s　time　you　told　her　once　and　for　all　that　her　emotions　are　her　own　responsibility。 No　one　has　a　right　to　blame　others　for　what　they　feel。”

She　heeded　my　advice。　The　message；　apparently；　was　received　with　ice…cold　equanimity。

Some　time　later；　my　friend　gave　a　recital　–　she　is　a　very　talented　musician。　Her　mother；　as　usual；　attended；　and　afterwards；　with　relish；　pulled　her　daughter’s　performance　to　pieces；　adding；　for　good　measure；　quotes　from　the　audience：　scathing；　humiliating　remarks　that　she　purported　to　have　overheard　in　the　ladies’　room。

Her　sweet；　gentle　daughter　burst　into　tears。　“Mummy；