Some days I feel like an old shark in a sea of happy dolphins. (Don’t assume too much).

I'm coming to think that caring about things (people, places, things in general) is a weakness. Maybe something like chocolate and the longing for something soothing, smooth and lush. I think that's too poetical. But, its the idea. Somehow we/ I think caring for things will bring me something good back. A feeling of having done well, or right, or good. Making the world a better place - but for who?

Caring for anything seems to be a trap. The things you care for will betray you in some way. Not always deliberately in a straight and easy to see line. But, along the way, your care will trap you and you will be abandoned. The things you care about will be thought useless baggage by others and eventually you will begin to feel let down by all of them. Not their fault, they are just things: books, art, collections, all of those things. The people will stop finding value in your caring and in yourself. You're old and should be invisible. Your care was useful at one time but now you're just in the way, lagging along like a weight, or a duty. The places you care about will go on without you. They will change, grow, die, without anything from you. Caring is costly, you lose power, energy and space.

Does any of this make sense? I don't think it matters because I'm an old woman now and my great super power is invisibility. I care you not.

I'm feeling sad today. Yesterday my Mom and I went out for a drive. She likes going out, driving around, looking at this and that. Usually we find old buildings, wildflowers, something I take photographs of. For her its a plant and a rock to bring back for the garden. Its a lot of time talking/ listening about our family, about houses and lives and children we see. Things I don't have, will never have now. So, it just makes me feel sad.

Mom wants me to write about everything on our adventures. I know she is feeling her age and wants our adventures and generally as much as can be, recorded. Mementos written about her life and her children and what she has done. I understand, I feel the same: older, less time, less potential, less healthy, a lot of less with things younger people will only begin to know about when they are old enough.

I try not to let myself feel regrets, or sad, or angry about myself, my life. But, its not easy. It doesn't change or fix anything so there is no point in feeling anything about it. So I put my time into other things, distractions but also real things that can take over the sadness and push it out of the way.

Last night I had a dream about Mom getting things together, with my help, she was going to sleep in the basement. She was leaning over her walker, as she does these days, and standing at the door to the basement, saying "Good Night" in that way she does now. I can't think of the right words to describe it, sad but not sad. Maybe a quiet happiness, something like that. The thing is, we have a finished basement but someone else is living there. Also, how would Mom possibly get down all those stairs? She couldn't. If she did - getting back up would be incredibly difficult for her and myself however I would figure out some way to get her back upstairs again. It was an odd thing to dream. But, dreams can be odd. Sometimes I have odd dreams I don't understand so much but later they come true and then they make more sense. So, this dream is bothering me. Of course Mom isn't going to live forever, none of us do. But, I'm not looking forward to her last day. For either of us. It would actually be the day after her last day, you don't know on the day of.

We don't drive as long or as far as we used to, even just a few years ago. Maybe the car accident is part of that. I think we both feel differently about the car itself now. (The accident was not our fault, we were sitting at a stop sign, waiting for traffic and deciding which way to turn).

I'm thirsty, thinking I will stop here and make coffee. Good Night, Good Evening, Good Morning, Good Day!

Has anyone ever died from swallowing pills?

How ironic, to be trying to save yourself with pills only to lose yourself with one stuck before it went down. It seems very discouraging for my possible future as a pill popper.