Everyone Loses

None of the short anecdote I’m about to share is probably going to make any kind of sense. I guess it’s not really supposed to. It’s just something I’ve been pondering this afternoon, in the aftermath of a disgusting and heart-shattering experience which I never want to relive, and which I hope I never have to recount. I couldn’t recount everything about my grandfather’s deterioration of heart and mind, even if I wanted to; it’s too sickening. 

What I’ve realized this afternoon, is that war is never productive. Sometimes it’s a necessary evil, if driven to that point in order to defend one’s self, but that doesn’t mean that the conqueror wins. Quite to the contrary, neither of the human forces on either side taste true victory. The victor isn’t human. The victor is Sin.

In just the last few hours, it's finally occurred to me that regardless of what happens from here, regardless of where this drama all leads, no one is going to come out the proud, happy, triumphant victor. My grandfather won’t win, and we won’t win, because this is a war that tears things apart. Wars don’t restore relationships; they ruin them for good.  In this on-going struggle with my grandfather, no one’s ultimately going to win, whether they try to fight on their own or seek legal aid. No one wins in situations like these. No one can win. My grandfather’s transformation has done nothing but ruin relationships. Because of the heartless beast he has now become, everyone has lost. He has lost a family; we have lost a grandfather. No one wins. Everyone loses.