The Power of Distraction

For those of you who know me personally, or have been subjected to my Facebook posts, you know I have causes. Strong feelings about certain topics. A great loathing of ignoring what is important in favor of the meaningless.

I get riled up about the fact that hundreds of girls were kidnapped for the heinous crime of wanting to be educated and WE WERE OUTRAGED. For a day. Maybe even a week. Changed our profile pictures and re-posted our frustrations and signed online petitions. But then someone wore something ugly on the red carpet, said somethings stupid or twerked, and those girls are forgotten.

Veterans come home damaged and can't get jobs, timely medical care, or sometimes even a bed at night, yet there are too many among us who don't even know that they are still fighting. That we, as a country, are still involved in war.

Regardless of your political bent, or who you like to point the finger at, I believe we can all agree that congress has been completely useless at solving anything, while continuing to draw a nice paycheck and build up 'war chests' of donations for the next round of elections. Remember, we are not helpless. The government is us and we have the power to vote them out if they are not doing the work they were sent there to do. And don't just vote based on the propaganda fed to you by those looking out for themselves. It is your responsibility to be an educated voter. You should know at least as much about the candidates as you do the latest celebrity scandal.

We pay people millions of dollars to play games. I enjoy football, Kelly likes baseball, but we agree that it is beyond crazy to pay people that kind of money for the privilege of pummeling each other to carry a chunk of pigskin over a chalk line, or try to hit a sphere of leather over a fence.

Each day too many people put more thought into what will happen on a reality show than what they feed their family. That schools and bridges can crumble, but by damn I'll have the latest cell phone. That a $35,000 handbag should even exist, let alone be something to want. The size of Kim Kardashian's ass.

Again, if you know me, you know I could go on, and on, and on...

I am Don Quixote.

But now I find myself needing distraction.

I watch these overpayed ball players batter their bodies to win a game to take my mind off the fact that my two displays of athleticism yesterday consisted of making my own breakfast and walking from the back yard to the front yard without falling down.

I stare into old sitcoms I've seen at least twice over because there are no surprises. The outcome is known. The laughs, while stale, are familiar and take me back to a time when cancer wasn't even on my radar screen.

Facebook is the great escape.  Inspirational quotes, political rants, pictures of horses, and connections to friends all over the world. It can suck hours away. Not always the best use of my time, however. And, while the survivors forums have been a fantastic source of information and comfort, they are booby trapped. Because sometime survivors stop surviving. Because 19 year olds shouldn't be fighting lung metastasis. Because to read about a 7 year old finishing up his radiation for tongue cancer is sometimes too much.

I crochet because it is just complicated enough to keep my mind occupied so it doesn't focus on every little twinge. Not only because twinges are often uncomfortable, they also cause the mind to leap to, "What does that mean? Is something good happening? I something bad happening? Should I do something...." Distraction is necessary to keep your sanity.

Yet I cannot descend into distraction to the point of ignoring the world. That would make no sense. Why fight so hard to stay here and not live? Not visit with people. Not be with my family. Not help, encourage, or do what I am able to do?

Days, months, years... I don't know how many I'll get. None of us do. One of the founding members of the music fraternity I belong to once said something along the lines of she could never live long enough to do all the things she wanted to do. I feel that way. I always have. My grandmother lived to be 98, and at the end she said she didn't want to go. There were still things she wanted to do.

So I will allow myself some distraction to make this more tolerable, but I will not shut out the world. I will continue to be thankful for all of the people who have pulled together to keep my family going for nearly a year now. Yesterday's gift was Stuart and Ellen came and cleared the front walkway, which makes the going much easier for me, and they picked some of the cherry tomatoes, too. Angie took Karissa on an outing and helped her burn energy and not spend another day looking at mom lying on the couch wondering if she would get better. Thanks to Lesley and Bonnie for running the shop and checking on supplies so I could put together a Hanukkah order. And, of course Kelly, for them multitude of things he does each day.

A correction to yesterday's post. Apparently the social hall was largely empty, not full. I misunderstood. While I have been know to exaggerate for effect when story telling, fibbing about the Rabbi seems like bad planning... especially one so supportive of FTFF.

Thank you for your continued prayers, love, efforts, and energy. I can feel it reverberate deep within me.

Until tomorrow,

Love,
Kiara

PS-  if I ever start caring about Kim Kardashian's ass, know that it is time to call in the hospice people, because I have lost my mind.