“It is a good thing to be rich and a good thing to be strong, but it is a better thing to be loved by many friends.” Euripides
Old Euri, if I may be so familiar, was very wise. My riches have not yet arrived, and right now I am not very strong, what with all the falling around outdoors, but I have a wonderful circle of family and friends. And that is true wealth and a source of strength. Not a single relation or friend has ducked down to avoid being called upon. Rather, all have jumped out to offer meals, errands, dog walking —even a couple of shots of good whiskey.
My sister Wanda and her husband, Bryan, have taken me in and are caring for me while I get over surgery and until I can stand one my own one foot. My daughter and her fiancé have been here helping whenever they can, seeing that I have what I need, and trying to help Wanda and Bryan with things they have to neglect in the name of health, mine and their own. My granddaughters are ready to take shifts to come help me when I get back home —slated for today or tomorrow, in my mind anyway. My children who live too far to physically help, call and check on me.
And my friends? Elise came over yesterday to fetch and carry, armed with reading glasses with tiny lights in them –who knew? – and coloring books. Fun day! Nancy, who knows first-hand what this is all about, plans to ferry me to doctor appointments, despite the fact that she is in the midst of her own health crisis. Sheila offered to come walk my nine-month-old German shepherd puppy, Bruno. Ashton plans to come and keep me company on lunch breaks when she can.
Writers Group friends Jule, Joe, Ken, Vicki, Bob, and Ron all offered to help in various ways: shopping, food, company, and encouragement. Joe alleviated any fears of having to crawl to the cracker box for sustenance by offering to do grocery shopping – or at least bring a wheelbarrow to roll me to the cracker box. Vicki also offered to shop –maybe keeping the cracker box full, so the wheelbarrow trip will not end in disappointment. Jule, coming on 97 years young, sent a sweet card with her sympathies for my predicament and an offer to run my errands for me. She is my role model.
I haven’t named everyone who has been front and center to let me know they care, but I am grateful to all of you and feel very fortunate indeed.
And, Ron, I am off the pain meds and ready for those shots. Just disguise them as Irish coffee if you don’t mind.