A new visitor (I think the visitor is new, anyway) left a very helpful comment for me yesterday. Unfortunately, WordPress has, for the last week or more, steadfastly refused to reveal anything about comments except the number left on a given post. That is a shame, because comments can be far more insightful and valuable than the posts about which they are made. Comments from people who, for one reason or another, stumble on my blog can open up the possibility of communicating with others with whom we may have almost nothing in common (or with whom we share so much we might be clones). I like the idea of establishing connections with people whose backgrounds and lifestyles and philosophies are completely unknown to me. Relationships with people about whom we know almost nothing can grow like newly planted seeds. Tiny rhizomes spread just beneath the surface, establishing a mat of connecting ideas; by the time the shoot breaks ground, connections have been made with a network of roots. Only after the relationship has begun to take shape do the commonalities and differences begin to show clearly. And when differences that once might have prevented even a nod between individuals become apparent, the connections may have become strong enough to survive provincial differences.


Yesterday was a better day for my wife. She spent time watching a movie, then watching an entertainment reality show (dancing, singing, and the like). Though she ate very little, she ate something, which is a good sign. However, when the home care aid was moving her into my wife’s reclining loveseat, the Hoyer lift tilted and almost hit my wife in the head; that scare the devil out of me and caused me to lose considerable confidence in the home care aid. She will be back today, though, as she was among the only ones available for the schedule. I have to decide early today whether I will opt to have help tomorrow and the next several days. I think I have no other choice; I know, now, I cannot do it by myself. Even with the help of my sister-in-law, until we are more comfortable with transferring my wife from the bed to her wheelchair, etc., I cannot risk it.


I am in the mood to write, but I cannot afford to focus my attention on this, so I’m off to tend to my wife.

About John Swinburn

"Love not what you are but what you may become."― Miguel de Cervantes
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