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Guilt and family and illness

A letter to a friend:

Hi Mr. V,
How are you doing?
Since Nov. 1 I've had bronchitis. For a week, I was trapped in a motel room ten minutes from my middle sister. Didn't want to give her or her family this nonsense, (so I saw her once for 20 minutes when she brought some healthy raw food.)

Now I'm in Birmingham, Ala., getting ready to visit two cousins and their families tomorrow.

It sucks being sick while on the road.

Drop me a line when you can.


For two days I was right near the historical home of Carl Sandburg, and felt so crummy that as much as I wanted to take a tour of his home, all I could think of was crawling into bed. Didn't even make it to the nearest big city, Asheville.

That horrid insomnia monster had a stranglehold on me for the past few nights, which didn't help. I took advantage of my cousin's kindness, and slept in until 10 a.m. It helped, but I am feeling the guilt of imposing on her and her family. They were very tolerant.

Maybe it's not as bad as I feel it is. My imposition on my family. Family, which I've only begun to reconnect with since 1976. You want to make a good impression, like with anyone. Plus, you enjoy them.

If I could seriously downgrade the guilt I'm prone to fostering, life would be far more enjoyable.

For now, over and out.

Posted via LiveJournal.app.


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December 2011