On holiday you get the chance to contemplate about life and death. Some countries inspire you more than others to do so.
We are on Skopelos, a Greek island, that is not crowded with tourists anymore in September. We stay at a guesthouse called ‘Katerina’. Our view from the balcony is a small chapel.
When Katerina was six years old, her mother died. Her father built the chapel for her mother to have a continuous anchor of her existence. Seeing the chapel makes you think of her. I have not met the woman, but how loved she must have been… This is real Quality, Quality of life.
Why is the expression of love from her husband the measure of the quality of het life? We know nothing of the quality of her life. He may have been an obsessive person so she comitted suicide because she could not bear life with him any longer?
Dear Marlou, Thank you for your comment. Luckily, that was not the case. They were a very happy couple!!