Look I'm posting

Every day for the last week I have thought that I should post to my blog, but I just haven't known what to say. I would think of something to rant about, but then realize that I'd already done it. Anyhow I did think of something to post about. That would be Frances. I volunteered to drive people to appointments when I was available, so lately I have been giving rides to Frances. We have gone to the dentist, the doctor , the grocery store and even the hairdresser. I really don't mind the time, especially as she is most grateful for the favors. But oh how I worry about her when she is alone. I know from conversations that she does have friends to talk to. But she has macular degeneration, so reading is not possible. She usually remembers what we have talked about on an earlier visit, but not always, so I do get concerned about her state of mind. But here's the thing that really bugs me...One of her daughters lives right here in town, but can't be bothered to do stuff for her mother. Okay, I'm sure she does some things for her. Frances had surgery last year and the daughter was there for her. But on a day to day basis she doesn't talk to her mom or check on her. Ok, really I have only Frances' word for it, but she is very upset about this. She is sure that she has done something to alienate her daughters, but she doesn't know what. And she lives in fear that they will force her into "a home". Now assisted living may be just what she needs, but she needs to come to that realization herself and not be forced. Also, she is worried about the cost, so she needs to be reassured and not frightened. I am afraid to get involved too much, and yet emotionally I already am. My job puts me in touch with shut-ins and lonely seniors and other needy people on a daily basis, and I'm finding it hard not to let my heart get in the way. But yet my spiritual need is to help people as best I can. And some days my spirit and my practical side are at odds. For now I will content myself with doing the little things as best I can. I offered to bring Frances some movies from the library, combining my spirit and my practical need to do something. And I keep praying for her and her daughters (and myself and my mother, because maybe guilt is part of why it cuts so deep.)