I got a call from a friend yesterday, her dad is very sick and probably only has a few days left. It's not a happy situation at all - he has amyloidosis which causes waxy protein deposits in various places. His deposits are in his heart, and his heart is turning to rock, solid, hard, no flexibility. Of course this leads to heart failure, and yesterday he signed a DNR. I can imagine being healthy and filling out that sort of paperwork, but being only days from death and signing that sort of paperwork must be incredibly hard to do. He knows it's the end. He's only 71, and 6 months ago was very physical and active. He and his father (in his 90's) have kept up the tradition of digging graves by hand - on a volunteer basis. The kids are taking this hard, as they should. We call him Grandpa, even though we aren't actually related. He's always been there for holidays, birthdays, etc.
Therefore I'm ready to take off at a moment's notice to support my friend. She was there for me when I lost my mother.
I know a few journalists who have mentioned having more than one journal. Well, a couple of days ago I finally went back and deleted every entry in my first journal. I "deleted" that journal way back in november or december, but it was still able to be undeleted. There were a lot of entries there that had the power to haunt me and remind me of some difficult times, over 15 months of struggles, heart aches, and trivial comments. I went through and quickly deleted every single entry, one at a time, fighting the urge to re-read of those days. I really want to put some of that misery behind me. That other journal is now gone, and I'm Moving On!