Does seem to be a reticense, a shyness, to talk about the vulnerable side of the street .... I have colleagues and siblings who hint at serious illness but hold back on discussing ... though they don't seem to mind, like my children do, talking about my mortality ... Some of them are Physicians with serious difficulties of their own.
I've wondered if there is an embarassment in admitting that death is always lurking somewhere in the Last Quarter ... maybe even shame in accepting that no matter how big a canvas you received to paint upon, eventually it gets full. So many important parts of life seem schmeared with shame .... certainly, illness, sex and death.
We also seem to have a natural tendency to deny other generations these courtesis ... the right to be ill, to die and to enjoy mutual pleasuring with another human being. As one of my inlaw kids said upon receiving any knowledge that 'the inlaws' were still active in the bedroom (nevermind any other rooms): Just shut the door.
Go figger those strange-tagalongs ... children, grandchildren! Interestingly ... I think dogs hasndle these matters better.
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