Yesterday Sheila, Mom's weekday caregiver, called me and my brother (a first) to say she thought Mom needed more hours- rather than leave at 11:30 am.weekdays, she wants to stay till 4 pm.  She called to ask us to "support" this idea with Mom.

But Mom told me Sheila's husband (a freelance landscaper) has been without work for 6 weeks, and they are desperate for money. So- not sure if Sheila is acting more in her interest or Mom's.  Mom usually naps for several hours after lunch- what would Sheila would do for her?

My brother Denny arrives there today; he'll check things out. Mom's still feisty, but she has a soft spot for Sheila, and anxiety about disrupting their cordial relationship. I care less about the additional expense ($450/week) than I do about the story I tell myself about a very old person potentially exploited.

I'll say, boastfully, that I'm a good friend. I revel in both the small attentions and grand gestures, the planned and sponaneous meetings, the bond of shared experience. Lately I've noticed several friends are available if I call. They say "What a great idea!"; we get together, and that's that until the next time I think of them.

So, this is my resignation letter, not that the women in mind read this blog. I don't need regular, perfect symmetry and can enjoy the years-go-by-then-we-connect kind of friendship. I'm either going to ask for what I would like, without blame, or in a few cases, see how the current flows. I don't want friendship to carry obligation; I'd like several of mine to have more mutuality.

"When patients complain of dead and lifeless marriages, it is often possible to show them how precious the deadness is to them.” - Stephen Mitchell quoted in NYT Times article, "Can This Marriage be Saved", Sunday Aug 19

Mitchell's observation recalls the old Woody Allen joke:

"Doctor! My brother thinks he's a chicken."

"Why don't you have him committed?"

"I would, but we need the eggs." 

A friend complains bitterly about her partner: he's arrogant, thoughtless, a slob. She is not currently examining her contribution to the system, nor willing to reconnect to what each once loved in the other. What are the "eggs"? A house, an intact family, affluence?

To each person who has decided you don't need the eggs, that a nice dead life is... no life,  fond regards. When this happens, bluebirds do not pull back your curtains like a Disney movie. You'll struggle, and you will be alive.