Some decades ago my mother was complaining that life and people had betrayed her and was upset by my being happy. “What right,”she said, “have you to be happy so long as I am miserable?” She added, “I have never known anyone who loves life as much as you do. It isn’t fair.” Her health was gone. She wanted me to accept her suffering as a claim on my joy. I could not do so. For that refusal she never forgave me.