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October 14, 2006

Saturday night stuff.

Weekend posts, ya'll know.

My mom is coming back to town to visit with Grandma, I'm so excited to see her. When I talk to her on the phone I miss her, miss my dad, and sometimes it's a physical need just to be near my family. Plus, I'm happy about spending time with Grandma. I know everyone thinks I'm doing something (finally) useful and bringing Mary McSunshine to a convalescent hospital, but I will let you on in a little secret: I actually love going there. I think I get more out of it than anyone else, I probably leave them exhausted from all the talking and ready for a much-needed nap. But it makes me feel happy down to my toes to spend time there and I love to be around every person I've met so far, love seeing my Grandma and feeling even slightly useful.

I suppose some people do things out of the goodness of their hearts, but I guess mine is a selfish and shrivelly heart (and also likely encased in cholesterol.) I adore hugging on people and making dumb jokes and generally being a gadabout.

Maybe if things change somehow, one day, I can get a job doing that ... maybe as an activities director or something? I thought at first I'd be sad to see folks in wheelchairs and with no family visiting. All that has been replaced by the dorky excitement I have at arriving there in a few days with bags of Halloween junk from the 99 cent store and the stack of gossip magazines I have awaiting Grandma. I'm not entirely sure this is an excellent part of my character, just seems like maybe I don't have the altruism gene and instead I'm mainly happy to go sit and chitchat and carryon. But then again, I am a Southern woman. We do love our carrying on.

Yesterday it rained, and it was cold (for Los Angeles) and I sat on my patio with someone and just enjoyed the evening and then I got up this morning and realized what it is about being lonely for so many nights that's good. It makes you really appreciate an evening of warm company. Maybe that's why I enjoy visiting Grandma (and friends) so much, it gives me more love for the life I have. It's so simple a thing, but I wished I would have learned it sooner. That a night alone is not necessarily a problem and that a night together is not a solution, either. You live somewhere in the middle.

Spending a lovely evening with someone isn't a promise, and spending eleventy-two alone isn't a jail sentence. They balance each other out, I hope. Maybe I wouldn't be so excited to see my mom if she lived right next door, I can't know for sure. I do know I'm so happy to see her, and tell her my stories. We all have our stories, don't we? Just need someone to tell them to, and chitchat and carry on with.

Posted by laurie at October 14, 2006 7:17 PM