These are the rich colors from a Christmas season night. In a darkened room, hanging over the edge of a basket and catching the reflection of white lights from a small wreath, they draw your attention. The camera vibration gave them a bit of a blur, just as they looked through sleepy eyes without glasses.
This is about blogs and CarePages and CaringBridge Pages. There are some blogs I read every now and then because they are nothing but whining and complaining. I figure, even though I am a master at both, I can pick up some new-fangled angles on technique or whatever. Never too old too learn and all that jazz.
I also have been introduced to some stories on the CarePages/CaringBridge sites that provide an avenue for the families of people with serious illness/injury to keep people updated. For instance, the daughter of a physician here in town has a six-year-old daughter who was diagnosed by him with a brain tumor last year. In a couple of other cases, people have referred me to sites. I guess I follow about three. When I go to the sites, I think to myself, now, AmeliaJake, remember when you are finished reading the update, you will go about your life but these people about whom you read are spending most every moment of their lives worrying about a loved one. You are not here to “make yourself feel lucky it’s not you.” And, actually, I have come to feel for these people in the back of my mind during many times in my days.
There are hundreds of these pages. There are tons of blogs filled with complaints about mothers-in-laws and neighbors and snotty kids and whatnot. We’ve been talking about this at the PBC and we have reached a consensus that perhaps the constant complainers should be asked to just scan down a list of families reporting on CarePages and CaringBridge. Might give them a little perspective.
You see, before the Internet, we would read about the occasional family dealing with illness in a feature article in the Sunday edition of the paper. It would be a one day visit and thoughts were interpreted through the writer. Now, now with the Internet, the thoughts come across in the words of the parents and grandparents and you learn these people aren’t one-time topics or feature articles; these people are people who live every day . . . just like you. So, perhaps, maybe, there just might be one postive thing you could post about . . . because, the ironic thing is, they often do.