Something Unexpected

The decision to start my own blog was, I hate to admit, borne out of frustration and anger. Since certain troublesome things seemed to be taking up most of my waking hours, and also robbing me of needed sleep, I decided to spend time blogging about the things that bother me most-- things I can't change, but wish I could. Hence the name, Odium Podium.

I'm happy to report that blogging can be very theraputic, but it also causes a certain amount of stress since you never feel that you've said it all, and that what you did say should have/ could have been so much better.

My husband and I got a letter in the mail today from a man we've dealt with (or, tried todeal with) for a long time, someone who let us down very much and caused us a lot of grief and worry in addition to taking a substantial amount of our money with no return. The letter made me angry, partly because he wants us to believe what he wrote (although he knows better), but also because he seems to think he can smooth things over at this late date by accentuating the positive. (Ever hear of Mr. In-Between?)

Since there is nothing I can do but answer it-- by taking it apart and showing his hypocrisy-- I intend to commit myself to doing that. And I need to for my own sake, regardless of the repercussions.

But something else came in the mail too. It was a two-page letter from a lady we used to go to church with in Lexington. She had seen our address in the church bulletin and decided to write to us.

My brother died recently and I suppose the church listed our address so that people could send a card if they wanted, but our friend, now in her eighties, was completely oblivious to this. She and her late husband were the sweetest, most honest people, and they have lived their lives so innocently it's almost comical (meant in the best way).

She wrote about her great-grandchildren who were born this year, and some various things in passing. Then she said her eyesight was failing and the doctor told her she was going blind. However, she has some drops that have improved the condition, although they hurt terribly, and she reports they are "a miracle."

When she mentioned the prospect of blindness, she told it almost as if it were happening to someone else, and she was just there as a bystander to watch it happen. She said "You wouldn't believe that happens to so many people."

Her attitude was so sweet and childlike, I couldn't help chuckling at my anger toward the man who sent the other letter because it was so trivial in comparison to her blindness she wasn't worried about.

I'm still trying to decide how to live my life, what I should answer, when not to bother, and so on. Some of these decisions are made for us all because we have to do certain things just to live, and everything else falls into some kind of order (or disorder), and we then choose what else we can manage to deal with, and how.

The trouble of it is that by the time I figure it out, my life will be about over and I'll wish I had lived it more like my friend..... Maybe that's one reason she's lasted so long.

She ended her letter saying, "God is so good to us." It's something to think about, especially when we find ourselves so riled up about things that are truly a grief, but also trivial.

Another friend of mine, age 83, always used to tell me that God is looking. I knew it was true then and didn't argue with her, but was usually still scheming after it was uttered. Now I am beginning to draw some measure of comfort from those three words, along with a certain amount of fear for those who are totally oblivious to the fact.