One of the little mini-dilemmas about blogging is what to keep private and what to blog about.
I know that some people write about every personal thing including their mood swings, but that's just not me. That is what I have a diary for! Which I can burn when I'm through with it.
Consequently, there are things I don't blog about that are more dear to me. For instance, my prisoner pen pal activities. Too many people don't understand it one way or the other. It either scares them or it makes them think I am incredibly charitable and Godly. Ha! Quite the opposite! I have friends in prison because I'm selfish and egotistical. After all, they are a captive audience and are FORCED to read my long, blathering, meandering letters all about me, me, me!
Truly, though, it's just one of the few remaining things I have that makes me feel good about myself. I've had to give up so many of my hobbies and activities and fun since becoming so sick. I'd rather not define myself as a person who can't make a difference in anyones life. That's just sad, to me.
One of my prisoner Pen Pals mentioned that he hadn't seen his mother in about 10 years. She's just too uncertain to make the trip up here from Los Angeles at 80 years of age. California prison's are not in the hub of major metropolis's's. (what is the plural for metropolis?) They are down some dirt road in the boonies and I find it daunting; I can imagine an elderly person would be too afraid to try. I offered to help his Mom come see him. It won't be that troublesome to pick her up at the bus depot and drive her up to Ione. I'm glad to do it.
When the phone rang at 8 in the morning I was not expecting this little firecracker of a woman to be on the line! It was Dilys (rhymes with Phyllis) and she was calling to introduce herself to me and to make plans for her trip up here. All my preconceived notions of a frail elderly woman afraid to venture out on her own went right out the window after a few minutes conversation!
"Girl! I'm sorry I haven't called you sooner!" she said gleefully, "I just got back from Texas visiting old friends!" Apparently, she hops on a greyhound at the drop of a hat! The only reason she hasn't come to see her son before now is that buses don't go to prisons!
When she asked me how long we'd be staying, I told her the visiting hours and she interrupted: "NO! That's too long! I can't go more than 3 hours without a cigarette!"
After we discussed what week she could come and synchronized our watches she said, "I won't be in touch for a while! Girl, I'm going to Las Vegas!"
I had visions of a chain-smoking, bus-hopping bundle of spirit and energy tearing off in a cloud of dust with the neon lights of Vegas shining in the distance before her. THIS is going to be interesting! I'll keep you posted.