Thursday, November 12, 2009

Depression, the sequel

(I promise this theme won't last).

My heart broke a million times last night - My friend G. has been in the hospital since Monday, and it took three days for her body to finally begin letting go. Her sister L. is in shreds, and their mother is trying to hold it together for them. I'm hoping she can finally start to grieve, rather than playing this macabre waiting game. My mom is waiting in the wings to go in when they need her; we've lived two doors down from these girls for 31 years.

31 years.

I know my mom is sitting at home, seeing two things at once. She sees the little girls she used to watch, who'd come over to our house for Kraft Dinner (a Canadian term, I'm told), who painted fingers and toes purple and pink. And, she sees grown women, mothers, still connected after all these years. We've reconnected since having our kids, and knowing we're still there for each other through time and distance is something Mom was always proud to talk about.

It's funny. Lately I've been reading a lot of SF, two series from one particular author, and he's fond of mixing "science" with psychic phenomena. He often uses this one particular characteristic in his human/oids called affinity; genetically engineered psychic connections between families, populations, or all members of a planet's race. You feel all pain that your brother feels, physical and mental, but you also share the burden of it.

Emailing back and forth with L. last night, I could sense that it was giving her comfort, although I can't for the life of me figure out how or why. Their suffering is infinite right now, and nothing can touch it, but she got some small measure of peace in hearing from me, and writing back.

If I can do that for her - give her a split second of quiet in her mind, however fleeting - I feel like I'm giving back something that so many people have given me during tough times, passing on the karma. And, knowing there are readers (reader? :-) ) and lurkers out there who are taking the time to read this, and maybe just giving a thought to me, or my friend, or their own friends or family going through impossible times, gives me immeasurable comfort.

Thanks for that.

(Tomorrow, I promise I'll try to get back to something more light and fun if I can. I'm finishing up my Christmas shopping this weekend, and I hope to get all the gifts photographed soon and off in the mail.)

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