So, it looks like I'm going to finish yet another book on my summer reading list tonight.. (I've read Criminal Shadows, Stephen King's "UR" on my mom's Kindle [not a bad short story, but I discovered I'm not too fond of the Kindle], and Rhoda Janzen's Mennonite in a Little Black Dress, the one I'll most likely finish tonight) just this week. Considering my summer break thus far, I think this is a record for me as of late. Since spending a bit more time in the sun, I can honestly say most of my joint/bone pain has eased considerably. I spent 2 days down the lake swimming with my nephew, took him to see "Mr. Popper's Penguins," (mostly because I was entirely too sunburned to even THINK about another day down the lake), and have been thinking of ways in which to entertain him when he's here and the weather is uncooperative. I've been mildly sunburned less than half a dozen times in the past 10 years, but learned the absolute WORST is having your hands, knees, and feet burned. I couldn't help but remember my last rafting trip down the Delaware River about 12 years ago when I received 2nd degree sunburn on my back and chest in addition to sunstroke. While working in a garage, aside from the general pain of the burns, driving was almost impossible. I almost prefer that to having been burned in places I use constantly.
I learned on Sunday evening that my Uncle Warren had passed away at 90 years old, but kept the news to myself due to a party my father threw that day. Without getting into the odd details of that side of the family, I've only met his wife, my aunt, and stay in semi-regular contact with her and my two cousins (two of her children). The funeral was held this morning and even though I had never met the man, I have heard enough about him over the last several years to learn he was an amazing, sweet, wonderful man--most of all, he was family. I was upset by the news, but even more upset that I could not be there for my family this morning since it was over two hours away and my car never would have made the trek. It goes into the shop this week for transmission repair, then my front brakes and rotors are in need of replacement very shortly after.
To add to the list of "dammits," I received a near hysterical phone call from my aunt and Godmother that my grandmother was rushed to the hospital tonight. Instantly, I was reminded of the times my mother was rushed into the ER, but she is not nearly as old as my grandmother. Fear and panic do not begin to describe even the surface. The worst part is having to wait until the morning to find out test results, how long she's going to be admitted (if at all), and preparing to drive to the hospital as soon as we know anything.
And, since it IS me, the guilt always shows. I feel guilty that I was unable to be there for my extended family this morning and even more guilty that for the first time in ages, I was having a great dinner with an old guy friend when I received the call from my aunt. Driving to meet my parents at over 100 miles an hour since I could not initially reach my father on his cell, I blasted my stereo in an attempt to keep calm. Then the "bad thoughts" crept in. After one possible date fell through on Monday due to dumb luck on my part, I was on kind of a date when once again, something happens and I have to cut things short and rush off. While those thoughts were brief and fleeting, I still cannot help but feel awful for them even popping into my head. I would like to believe that in times like these, such brief, inappropriate thoughts happen to everyone at some point.
I am also worried about an amazing woman with whom I've had the privilege to become good friends with. After a few month respite, she has been feeling worse and her seizures are becoming more frequent. She is among a very short list of people (including her awesome fiance) that I can text or call at odd hours when I need advice, need to vent, or when I'm just plain worried about stupid things or how they're doing. Him and her are two people I feel not only blessed to have come into my life, but love them as family. In many ways, we are in a way family, but we are also a kind of support group for each other. The three of us know firsthand how hard it is to survive on such small, fixed incomes, among other medical problems, she also has been diagnosed with Fibromyalgia, and with exception of seizures that have a known cause (which is not my place to say), our other illnesses may be different in title, but very similar in nature. We become each others support group in ways. Being fortunate/unfortunate to still be living at home, I am still in the process of cleaning out "stuff." What isn't being donated, I have several bags that both of them can use for their apartment as well as some OTC medications he can use but cannot afford at this time. It's just a matter of waiting for this latest clutsersmuck to calm down some so that I can definitively set aside time to meet up with them. Without sounding arrogant or bragging, there isn't anything I wouldn't do to help a friend or most of my family out. And have, even at my own sacrifice. While I know certain people would never reciprocate (which I will not mention), that's just the way I was raised. For that, I thank my mother, my aunt in Florida, my grandmother (who I'm praying for right now), and my Babci (great-grandmother) God rest her beautiful soul. And I know, with so much is going on at the moment, with amazing friends to lean on, I will get through this. And for that, I love them even more for it.
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