Where the Wilde Things Ate.

R.I.P. Maurice Sendak. 

And thanks for the wild rumpus and all.

Here is a delicious roast Thanksgiving turkey for you.

XOXO

Processing, processing...  one of the terrifying side-effects of a terrifying illness arriving at the doorstep is how, instead of pulling people together and bringing out their best, it can rip people apart and bring out their worst.  I for one had hoped to act only as a channel for healing and goodness and divine love to use in focusing its light, and maybe also to be a good grandma and stepmother/mother-in-law as well.  What is going on with our little group instead, has me baffled, as it is straight out of a soap opera of the first order.  Two plotlines converge at the intersection of Our Loved One and The Unwritten Rules.

I understand what it is to have a best friend for life; there are a very few extraordinary ladies in my life -- you can count 'em on one hand -- who go back many decades with me.  One of whom goes all the way back to 1969, which was a very, very long time ago, children.  I know what it is to have this treasure, and to fear that it will be taken away from you, and far too soon at that.  I myself went WA-A-A-AY out on a limb today and told someone I love the truth about her spouse, and I'm scared sh*tless that it may cost me her friendship.

This lifelong friendship thing (Plotline A), it can make you possessive, and protective, and I think that those qualities may manifest in different ways.  You might, for example, become quite hostile to unfamiliar family members during your friend's battle with a life-threatening illness.  You might disapprove, judge, look down upon, and listen to evil gossip.  You might drive away agents of love and light with your negativity, if only because they choose to do battle with you and your energy, by not doing battle at all.

I also understand what it is to be insecure (Plotline B), and to feel as though you constantly have to be proving yourself to a group who just won't see things your way.  I know from experience how it feels to be so entrenched in your own self-righteousness that you just can't make room for the other person's point of view... and how that feeling can lead to some powerful anger and aggression.  How you constantly feel in your head that you're always fighting with people who just don't see that you are the one who is Right.  What I don't know, is what it feels like to be so competitive for possession of an entire group that you will actually scheme, and do mean things in the guise of kindness, in order to shut out the ones you can't accept. 

I really don't get that one at all.  Maybe I grew out of it in time.  I hope so.

But I certainly get the competition for control of the sick person's world.  It's sad and ugly and fear-based, but it thinks it's borne of love and lovingkindness.  I've seen it before.  If it were on Star Trek it would be some kind of strange little creature-of-the-week.  It's ugly, and it's weird, and while I have pity upon it, that does not alter the feelings of pain and disgust it engenders within me.  It feeds on those feelings, too, because it thinks that it has power, thereby. 

It may not even know the hurt it's causing... or it may know, and be glad about it.  It can divide a family, and feel like it's done the right thing.  It'll tell you it only wants what's best for the one with the illness, and that the others weren't doing anybody good anyway.

It's smug.

Here is a turkey's ass.

And the person at the center of the vortex of this, the one who is working hard to overcome cancer, has no real idea that this manipulative bullsh*t is raging around her.  Gawd, I hope not.  I for one won't tell her.  I love her too much for that.  She has way too much on her plate for anyone else's personal problems to have any business poking noses in.  I'll just adhere to the new rules and stay away from the domains of those who have decided that I am unacceptable.  If some of us are not needed, well... love and light are pretty good about finding their own way in to where they belong.  If it's not my privilege to serve, then it's simply not. 

And maybe someday... when she is well... we'll see.

Because who gets to be smug and who has to detach and who gets to be in charge and who gets hurt in the process and how anybody feels about anything is completely unimportant.  All that matters, is that she does get well.

ALL that matters. Is that she DOES.  GET.  WELL.