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Friday, April 22, 2005


Wonder if sitting at home doing nothing will ever be an option?

Tomorrow Dorian and I will drive in to Oakland High School where she will do her Special Olympics track and field practice followed by swim training. She lives for Saturdays these days. I feel so grateful for the inspired work of the Kennedy family in creating this marvelous program for the developmentally and physically disabled. She's earned a trunkload of medals for every possible event over many years -- going from one sport to another over the course of a year. In the appropriate seasons she enjoys bowling, track and field, basketball, softball, soccer, swimming -- and in winter, cross-country skiing. We've done some things right; and Special Olympics is one of them.

Later in the day I'll meet Tom for the trip by BART to the SFMOMA and a four o'clock lecture by artist, Kathan Brown. Looked her up on the web in preparation for hearing her talk and again felt grateful for this remarkable resource. It means that I will bring so much more to the lecture, and that I will take away even more. What a world! ...maybe a trip to the observatory soon will fill in some of the empty spaces in my understanding of the universe ... do you suppose?

Meanwhile, there's this desktop (not my computer, but the one it sits on) to sort through. I've still not moved on locating that little scrap of paper upon which the name of Dorian's possible next home is written. I've continued to pile clutter on top of all that lies below -- and though I'm very much aware of what I'm doing, I can't make myself complete the process and make that call ... and if I can't find the phone number ... .

Guess I'll just do string theories and blue herons and Papa George kinds of thinking until it magically works its way to the top of the heap.

Had no idea it would be so hard to do what I know must be done.

No amount of well-intentioned but empty resolve will deliver us to that place where we must go.

For the sake of her emotional and physical survival in my eventual absence from her life -- she must be released to her own fate.

Life is precarious at best, and precious -- and terminal.

Some lives are more fragile than others ...

... and do I really trust the world with hers?

Apparently not.

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