August 14

It's been a low energy day. JT (eldest son) asked if I wrote all the bad stuff that goes on with Slim.  "No," I told him, "I hold back, the material too dangerous and volatile. I don't want to say or use words which will hurt the people I love."  Then I found myself wondering how many millions of transgressions have I already written. Well never mind.

I have done the best I could do, in some respects.  It seems like it could have been better sometimes, but it is past - reliving it, second guessing, judging -  I am tired of it. I have lived my way through my choices. I did not run away when things got hard and none of it has been easy. I'm still here, but I want to stop being the absolute center of so many people's lives. I don't want to be so essential. Thirty years of care taking has earned me the right to peace and quiet. Doesn't the universe work like this?

I have two knots of fear.

Slim is highly unstable. For the last couple of days he has aggravatied his issues with bad choices. He and his caregivers are slung from fear and pain to sorrow and anger - in an endless cycle of suffering. This is the question when I close my eyes to sleep: how self destructive will he be tonight? 

The second knot of fear is the Timberlake Water Story. Did I lose the public good will with this one? I am afraid of overstepping my bounderies and making enemies. Maybe I have no business in journalism.

This is the first silence and solitude I have had all day. I contemplate taking an adivan to sleep long and hard - dissolve the knots with chemicals. For now , I'll drink chamomille tea. The star vigil from last night has stayed in my head. I am comforted.