May 4
7C and overcast.

Yesterday was another day of little action. Got my hearing aids cleaned, read some more of Alan's book - it is actually - truthfully an amazing piece of work. Had visitors for an hour.
M has made an appointment for today to see the doctor, I already know what a prescription for saddness is; its  get moving, do something physical and interact with others. So will go to the club and help with setting up things for the annual garage sale (something we were supposed to organize anyway). Oh yeah, I 'll go see the Doc and listen politely.

For those of you who have reason to grieve and I include a few whose time of sorrow has preceded ours and others who are now experiencing new found grief,  I add these lines written by Washington Irving. (A friend wrote them into a sympathy card)

There is  a sacredness in tears,

They are not the mark of weakness,

But of power…

They speak more eloquently

Than 10,000 tongues.

They are the messengers

Of overwhelming grief,

Of deep contrition,

And of unspeakable love.

Coincidentally the friend's name is Hope

And here is another of Alan's pieces. Like most of the others it is part of his book and this is about his concern for a friend who he thought had lost his way.

Logjam

It's a lonely life

that without purpose,

roils around aimlessly.

Logjam in the river,

Snagging the odd branch

or rotting carcass.

Water, fish and life

burbling merrily by.

Slowly eroding away

first the bark then the flesh.

Does the log envy or resent

the river it rests in,

or the fish heading up stream

to spawn and fulfill their journey?

Or is it just saddened,

Remembering it' s former glory,

Waving it's branches in the wind?

Alan Harvey Little

Copyright ©2001 Alan Little