’Love is a doing word. ‘

~I think the first thing I should do here is apologize to the good people of Boise Idaho. I will take the blame for the drastic change in weather since Saturday. I know, I know…I had to go and brag about our Fridays near 70 temperatures and the blissful sensations of Spring. I tempted fate in every sense of the word. I wore a tank top. I went outside and basked in the sunshine. I kicked my pets outside. And I unknowingly cast a spell of Spring Voodoo on the region. One hour after I posted my last entry the clouds rolled in and rained for 2 days on my parade. Rumor has it I’m taking the blame for Utah’s sudden change in weather as well. So Sorry everyone.

~I’m sure in another month or two it will warm up again~

When my Grandmother passed away last year I received a treasure trove of written correspondence that had been my Grandmothers collection.  I’ve tried to savor them out over time like a good book that I knew would come to an end. Letters from the 1940′s to notes written just last year. So much handwritten sentiments that I feel like I inherited history and connection to her like no other gift could have accomplished.

There is one set of letters that continue to pull at my heartstrings and I just can’t seem to walk past them. The voice of a lonely woman I don’t even know, has crept into my heart through her words.  The letters make me look around at every elderly person I see on the street and wonder if they feel the same as the Margaret who wrote to my Grandmother about her loneliness. 

“I have to walk with a cane and often need help. I bought a motorized wheel chair, but now I’m having problems with getting anyone to load it. You and I seem to be the only ones left in our age group. I miss them. (her friends that passed away) Young people seem to think I am boring and I get very lonely. I would love to have you and Dorothy come over to see me. We could go to lunch. I can’t cook anymore. You are lucky to have your friend. Some people have no one. [...] I can still do my laundry. When my legs hurt in the night I get up and do some laundry. Walking makes my legs hurt less.” Love, Margaret

In an effort of sending a piece of this hard truth outward, I made copies of a few of the letters and sent them to a friend, Mary of  RejectedTruth, who advocates for the elderly. A small step, but it’s something. Margaret’s words will now reach far more then she could have imagined…………..

I don’t have any Grandparents now. They have all passed along and as a Grandchild without a Grandparent, I remain with plenty of love left over that should be lavished on someone. I can do that. And perhaps…… having a public journal such as this, writing about the loneliness of the elderly will remind some that still have Grandparents that a phone call, or going over to help load a wheel chair, or taking them to the store, or cooking a dinner for them, or spending time listening to their stories could mean the world to someone at that age…………

Just think about it.

The action of Love. A verb more divine then anything else I can write~~