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2003-03-01 I should be writing more, keeping some record of time this year, but so much of time is spent in transit or preparing or doing or reassuring. "Promise you'll call me tomorrow I get so lonely." Checking in, checking up on volunteers. Being disappointed when people flee responsibilities. Trying to trust strangers to do what I do willingly but don't have enough time in a week to do. I'm still not sure if I'm really doing anything of worth as of yet. Am I helping people or just enabling them to prolong their anxieties instead of coming to some sort of acceptance? I try and try with older folks but think I'm lacking something in experience. Only an ear. I don't know what it's like to lose the dependence on my body or what it's like to lose my spouse and all my family around me. Things aren't being marked by words, only feelings blotted among days, dog-earred with fatigue. But some things are so good. Leading a group of middle school girls in creative writing and photography, tutoring kids and playing a game of chess with a 4th grader. Practical. The practical application after so much time spent living in theory. Learning without the extensive note taking. |