I’m looking at the world through new eyeballs. An old and good friend, "J" has been caretaking her mother for more than two years. Unbeknownst to me, "J" has slowly become physically and emotionally exhausted. I could tell things were pretty bad by the end of a phone conversation we had last weekend. I drove over to "J's" and stared around the living room that always felt so upbeat, and saw—sensed a heavy sadness that kind of hung there. Without going into this at length, I stayed there for as much of the weekdays as I could, while “J” visited some (dreaded words) elder care facilities throughout the bay area. It’s almost comical (darkly) to be blogging about my weight issues when there is so much big-time hurt happening all the time within families, to people on the streets, yes, and to animals and people elsewhere... especially in these stinking economic times.
“J” seems to be a bit more energetic; she's tough, but has been living such a nightmare. I've been neglectful of friends and feel badly that I've been unaware of the extent to which the grind of life, at least at "J's," has been disintegrating. And if I thought that was the worst news I could think of, I also spoke with another acquaintance this week, with whom I used to be very close. Her husband passed away last July. My girlfriend, "A" is young - too young to lose "C," although I knew he had cancer. Sometimes if you hear that a person is in remission, you actually believe that they're 100% back from a bleak sentence. Blindsided the second time this week.
I realize that this is not the best time to write about these depressing issues, but I do want to tell you about an immensely moving memoir about one mother’s decline when she got Alzheimer’s. Called Death in Slow Motion, Eleonor Cooney holds nothing, I mean NOTHING back. A worthwhile read for the right person at the right time.
Okay, enough of this. I’m home for a while this morning and glad to be here. (Maybe more than I’ve ever been!) As I said up top, I am seeing the world with a new set of peepers and what a huge gift that is. I feel changed in a way—something small, but significant. But I'm not certain that I can figure out how to write about it. I have only a few clients next week, which is also a gift. I send sincere wishes for a peaceful Sunday.