Apr. 25, 2002 - 22:10 MDT

THE WONDERING JEW

Muddled Puddle

A touch of indigestion, a little dash of being out of sorts and finding one who was missing and wondering about one who is.

Neither are relatives but friends I met on the internet. Sometime ago one who dropped out showed up again, thank the Lord but, has yet to start a journal again.

Is this going to be place holder ? Maybe so, not sure.

Is it really important that I worry about friends on the internet, or for that matter about anybody ? In my voyage of discovery of self I found out that I don't count for much, can't cause change in the meekest, mildest creature -- two legged or four. But I am me.

To read someone's journal and find out what they are facing, battling and sometimes surmounting, I am one bifurcated rooter. Sometimes that is not enough and one of us goes down, maybe for just a while and maybe forever as Jade did.

Guess that is what makes my definition of a human friend so simple in many ways. It is someone who cares, someone who remembers, someone who is interested and helps if and when they can. Who feels so helpless if there is nothing that he or she friend can do to help, other than pray.

So many folk on the net are taking care of their older folk in their last days. I know just about where they are because Heather and I took care of my Dad in his final years. Prior to that Heather did what she could to help her Mom who died of cancer and take care of her family too.

Many of us who are Autumn Leaver's have varying disabilities, most of them painful and hampering, and some like me are also fighting Senile Dementia nooth and tail, or something - whatever.

I remember, oh it must have been some number of years ago a Parade Magazine in our Sunday paper that had an article on the difficulties age caused. The cover had an aged couple, she was holding a sampler she had made which said, "Old age ain't for sissies." I have to kick my hinderparts and remind myself of that very thing all too often. Don't want to be a sissy nohow.

On nights like tonight when things didn't go quite right through the day I have to remember, tears make quite a Muddled Puddle . . . . . . .

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