Grew up on a farm and raised cattle all my life. One of the saddest
things I witnessed was when we had to put down a cow a few months
after giving birth to a calf. When I walked back in the barn (we shot
the mother about 50 feet away from the barn, unfortunately in sight of
the calf), the calf had visible tears in it's eyes and running down
it's cheeks. Since we had been bottle feeding it for a few weeks it
was time to feed it and when I tried to give it the bottle, it
wouldn't take the nipple of the bottle, almost like it didn't care
anymore. I stayed outside with it for a few hours trying to get it to
feed and really doing all I could to console it but no luck. I went
back in my house and a few hours later I went outside to try again.
The calf had died. Pretty sure it just lost it's will to live. Some
people say animals can't experience emotion, I call bulls--t.
Dunno if it's the 'saddest' thing I've ever seen, but yesterday I was
standing at the grocery checkout behind an elderly lady with her
little white dog sitting in the shopping basket… dressed in a pink and
white ballerina outfit with a pink tutu! Pretty funny actually (but
also somehow pretty tragic).
Once I was returning from Domino's after having a large pizza. I also
had two beers that day. I had spent a total of 1,000 rupees
(approximately 16 dollars). On my way back home I saw a man drinking
the waste water coming out of a house. He was kneeling down and
licking the water just like a dog drinks water. I felt really sad. I
took him home, gave him fresh water and the dinner which I was
supposed to eat during night. That was the only night when I was
hungry as well as happy.
In 2012, a survey of 2,000 children found that the tenth most popular
choice for a gift was a new dad.
"The saddest thing I carry with me", writes Summer in a story archive:
The saddest thing I carry with me is my own burden and the inability
to love another.
I had a fine childhood. I don’t know what is wrong with me.
Every time I get involved in a relationship, I have to find means to
eventually end it. I cannot make myself happy, and I bring all of my
signficant others down. I sit and sulk in my own self derived pain. I
am unable to create if I am not in pain. I’m not sure what is wrong
I have lost great loves. I have lost budding relationships that could
have really been fulfilling.
I have lost each one of these to gain nothing, to sit in sorrow and
end each day alone.
The jacket cover of Kate Clifford Larson’s heartbreaking biography of Rosemary Kennedy presents a broadly smiling young woman with plump cheeks, straight teeth and dark curly hair beneath a jaunty hat. But her narrow, uncomprehending eyes become the most significant feature, once we learn that on the verge of womanhood this third born of Joseph and Rose Kennedy’s nine children had the mental capacity of a 9-year-old.
Earlier this year (six months previous), a man used up a considerable
amount of savings to pay for a billboard advertising that his wife
with dementia was missing. Apparently, she had wandered off.
Everytime I drove by the sign my heart hurt. The sign has been up