I went shopping. My pet Blackie looked at with me with his mouth agape, sure I was simply forgetting him when I went out the door. The usual routine each morning has been to pack up and load him in the car, along with my food bag, camera bag, purse, cosmetic bag (full of everything but cosmetics), and laptop. Blackie is getting old and grey around the mouth, but is loyal and never complains. I reassured him, zipped him shut, and went shopping. Really, he has had such attacks of insecurity ever since I bought the new purple carry-on.
Writing on my current novel is going really well as I travel, due in part to the many miles at the wheel when my mind is free to conjure up details. The trick is having paper and pen nearby for jotting the ideas down. I’m getting fairly good at writing and map reading while driving. Please note, I don’t do that in traffic, but there are miles and miles and more miles of nothing but trees in northern Minnesota.
My cousin is fighting the hopeless disease of ALS. His sisters have shouldered his care for over two years now, but the time has come; he must go into a facility. I absolutely hate the fact that there is not a single, solitary thing I can do to help, except to pray for all of them, and to hug them tight. My instinct to take charge, take over, get something done, is all negated by the fact that this disease is the only thing in charge. It has robbed a wonderful person of everything important to a human except his mind, right in front of everyone’s eyes. It will eventually take his life, and that will be the blessing at the end of a long and horrific road. I am mad. I am helpless. I am grieving.
My prayer now is that the stress of this ugly ALS journey does not take his family down too. Stress takes a toll. I know that without question. It quietly robs Peter to pay Paul in our bodies and our own immune systems. Please keep up the ice bucket challenge. We need to find a cure.