Friday, July 3, 2009


We have a relative who lives on the other coast. We have communicated by phone and letters for decades. I can't remember one time that I had the guts to open up the letter as soon at it came in. I would let the letter sit there, on the table, move it to the desk, move it a bit further so I did not have to look at it.

Then guilt would set in. This person took the time to sit and write! This person may have something good to share. You need to read this.
So...I would slowly use my letter opener and in slow motion open the envelope. I already knew what was in it. The car no doubt needed a transmission, one of her kids would be in jail, she needed a walker for new injury, or she had another funeral to go to.
I can't remember ever having read her be jolly about ANYTHING.

I pondered on this the other day when another letter arrived with the dreaded return address. I know this person has problems, I know life is not easy for her. Yet I have a dislike to reading about it over and over again.
Then it hit me, hit me right in the eye. Lordy, I had become that person too.
I am living, dreaming,talking, reading, writing, observing a disease called Alzheimer"s. I have become the "bad news lady" in my conversations, writings, emails, blogs.

So for a week I am deciding to TRY and not give that disease another minute of my time.
I am becoming so damn boring and this has to stop.
I should not be writing letters which sit on someone's desk and he/she is afraid to open it and have to hear the laments of a caregiver.
It is what it is so it can't be changed.

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