A Letter to Linda - Oct. 15

Hello Linda,

As you know, I have been trying to write for many years.  I have had many excuses: work, taking care of the family, settling in, something unsettled me, distractions, etc.  Some of them have been legitimate but most of them have not.  This is yet another start.  I have had a ton of "starts:"  Some are blogs. some are journals, some are fiction (by that I mean that I tell people I am writing when I am not). 

I am not a good starter.  My ex-husband mentioned that shortly after we got married almost 3 decades ago.  I knew that even before he spoke it.

Linda, I wish I was there with you.  I wish I wasn't one of those phone people who are competing for your attention.  I wish I could actually be helpful - coooking, cleaning, taxi service - rather than simply sending digital energy - calls, blogs, emails, PayPal.  Sometimes I feel like a glorified telemarketer.  

I hope that you are taking excellent care of yourself right now.  I called about an hour ago.  I hope you said, "I am all out of nice right now" and rearranged your beads.  I hope that you are channeling your inner caretaker and an inner protector or two to back her up (how can she be anything other than a she?).

In the last couple of days, I worked my limited network and started to look for a job working in Hospice.  It is little more than phone calls right now but I hope something will bloom. 

There is an ambulance with full sirens going outside my window.  I live kitty corner from a nursing home.  The fact that the ambulance drove through a residential area in full noise tells me one of two things:  it is either very serious or we have a rookie driver.  In the past I would pray it was the later but now I just pray.  Kwan Seum Bosal. 

I updated some of the window treatments in my home.  As a gift, the salesman gave me a bunch of wooden cord fobs.  He was happy to give me the items but refused to put them on my 30+ window cords.  I tie and retie the knots with my hands shaking.  I did everything I know to slow the tremor in my hands so I know it will not get any better.  I think about you, Linda, with your patience tying small beads onto cords.  I also think about Mom knitting yarn into intricate patterns.  I conclude that there is nothing to do but grab then next fob and try again.

I am going to add some of the stories that you like in this blog.  Hopefully, I will eventually take these stories and end up with a book.

I hope to talk to you soon but only when you are ready to talk.  I don't want to to be a chore that you feel you have to do even though you aren't fully up to it.  I don't want to be a fob.

Love,

Cate