I envy those who religiously write in (or on -- which is proper?) their blogs. I can't seem to get into that routine. Maybe it's because I can't decide whether it is good or bad for me to be posting regularly ... And yet consistency as a writer is imperative. I've always considered myself a writer, but maybe that's a phantom skill which is also just envied and lacks evidence ... So moving on: I'm pleased I can see the sun today even though its warmth eludes Iowans during December. Happy Holidays.
I just got off the phone with my sister and I'm trying very hard not to succumb to the Holiday Bitters. It becomes increasingly difficult with siblings to sort through who has maternal responsibilities regarding aging parents. And it's a strange role to be decipher - daughter, sister, adult, child, caretaker, manager, supervisor, scheduler, taxi cab driver. The skills of all are required as well as emotional endurance. It shouldn't be this burdensome. And now add guilt because there are others who would love to have parents still around to worry about. With as much guilt as I carry one would think I was brought up Catholic....