I was playing chess with life and somehow I managed. No big victories though.
The good thing in this game is that when you perform a valuable act you get back one or more pieces you previously lost, while the opponent loses the same number of piece/s you gained.
Fair enough I suppose.
Then the almost nine years spent with my schizophrenic mother arrived and it was a real massacre! The only left piece was the king: me! And all the rest butchered.
It took years to recover physically and psychologically.
But now my pieces are all back. I understood sooo many things that indeed, I must say I feel grateful. Nothing smoother could have taught me so much!
Now, at 72, I am ready to play the second (and final) round!