'Truth is Stranger than Fiction'

Dear Larry:

You are a perceptive little cuss. One who gets under the skin of the elite members of the Ladies Aid Society. They’re pompous ladies, aren’t they? Very judgmental. In so many ways, they act like old hags. But Larry, that’s their choice, isn’t it? They’ve let life defeat ‘em. They’re angry. Unhappy. That they’ve had to deal with the pitfalls of Alzheimer’s and care-giving. They whine. They feel sorry for themselves, more so than for their patients. And they don’t like facing the truth. If they stop to ruminate for a while, maybe they’d understand that they are blessed. Blessed with the opportunity to love. Unconditionally. To no longer lament the hand they’ve been dealt. One of the ladies seems to have been bitter ever since her 21-year marriage broke up. Her husband apparently ran off with a younger woman. And at the same time, she’s had to cope with watching a beloved mother slowly fade away. Yes, the dreaded Alzheimer’s. So she had a double whammy in her life. And it just seemed like her problems multiplied. I understand that. The woman deserves empathy and sympathy. But at some point, she has to right her own ship. And get on with life. Larry, you’re the sort of person who would tell her just that. And that wouldn’t be appreciated. But if you were that woman’s friend, Larry, you’d tell her to focus on what she’s still got. The pluses. The blessings. Being an alive and conscious being. And still able to salvage happiness. If only she set her mind to it. Another member of the society is an author. Wrote a book about Alzheimer’s and care-giving, and had it self-published. In the vanity press. Which is all right. She knows how to promote herself and her book. And lots of authors do that. It’s their livelihood, after all. But she’s hung up over this notion of suicide. A family member took his own life. And at the about the same time, her father was dying of Alzheimer’s. Yes, the double whammy effect again. Ain’t easy to cope with one tragedy. But, hey, two at a time. It can take a toll on one’s mental and emotional equilibrium. And I feel for this woman. I tried to console her in a private letter once. By telling her how I dealt with my father’s suicide. And that in some ways I considered my dad’s decision to take his own life a heroic act, of sorts. That it wasn’t all bad. That oftentimes, something good can be salvaged from a seemingly bad and distressful act. I did. I resolved the suicide in my mind. And learned to live with it. And to get on with life. I actually demonstrated to my dad’s spirit how one can live a happy life, despite the pitfalls. Anyway, the woman took me to task, on the Alzheimer’s message board. She publicly divulged some of what I had said in my private letter. She also distorted my position. Took it out of context. So I set the record straight and quoted from our correspondence. Well, you know what, Larry? She accused me of violating our privileged private correspondence. When, actually, she did it first, and more or less forced my hand. She could just as easily have chosen to continue our private dialogue. Instead, she decided to make it public. Anyway, Larry, as you well know, the Ladies Aid Society has an abundance of interesting characters. I think you’ve characterized one of ‘em as Mother Superior. Seems appropriate to me. She often chastises me and tells me how to act. Tells me what’s proper and improper. And that I can learn to be a good boy. Well, the irony of the whole thing is that she’s got her own family problems. She needs to clean up her own act and mend some of her own fences. With her lovely daughter, for instance. Maybe Mother Superior needs to change her ways. Well, Larry, I know you are plugged in to the Alzheimer’s message boards. That’s evident from the correspondence you’ve posted in this blog. You and I could sit down some day and collaborate. And write a book. About the Ladies Aid Society. And we could call it, “Truth is Stranger than Fiction.” --Jim Broede