Life presents such interesting choices. I answered a group question a day or so ago which asked whether or not the choices we individually make impact others. There is no doubt in my mind that's true. I truly regret any hardship and/or stress I caused by being absent.

About three and a half weeks ago a friend called me and said she was stuck and needed me to come rescue her and drive her across the state to her brother's ranch. He passed away in late April and it was long past the time for his personal affairs to be handled. Of all of our mutual friends I am the only one who could really make such a trip. I stumbled around for a viable excuse as to why I couldn't do what she requested and finally I said I would call her back.

Holy cripes. I was laid off late last October, and have figured out a way to provide myself with an income monthly income equaling something only slightly above the poverty line, and I love it. I have never been much into "things" so this suits me fine. I am widowed. Two of my sons have moved out of state, and the third one was scheduled to do so June 25th. He and his family did leave, and although I was certainly upset, not nearly as much as I thought I would be. I can get up when I want to. I can wear my pajamas all day if I want to. I can cook what I want, when I want. I can go to films anytime I want. I'm a voracious reader and I can do so with no interuptions. I have been and continue to explore work at home possibilities, but can make it without. I can have as many plants as I want. I have been and will continue to work on issues that have plagued me and it seems much less stressful to do so now than ever before. I always, liked school. Now I love it. I take courses over the internet. I bead and work with wire and I can leave them out and nobody messes with my projects. I can play on the computer when I want and for as long as I want. It's a very growthful time I didn't know I would have, and it's really working for me.

Not long after I had hung up with my friend, her son, an Air Force Officer, stationed in a very bad place, how is a pilot, called. He asked for me to please, please go help his mother. Eventually I said I would. Although I resented what I considered pressure.

After all, she and I have only been friends for about twenty five years. For many years we lived only a block apart. Her son is a very close friend of my son. I always admired that in a time when it was very uncommom, she had never married, raised her son and bought her home on her own. Other than her son, she has no living relatives, nor do I. We went through many things together during the child rearing years. We attended her son's graduation from the Air Force Academy. During my husband's hospitalization and death she made sure we ate, cleaned the house, did the wash, and was a truly amazing source of support. Still is. She suffers from MS. Sometimes she cannot walk. She should never have taken off to drive across the state by herself. But it's understandable.

The first problem was to get where she was stuck eighty three miles away. I finally thought to call a courier company that services the area and begged for them to take me. To my great surprise they agreed, for a price of course, but at the time that wasn't much of an issue. So at midnight, after they picked up the last baggage and packages from the airport I was on my way. When at last I connected with her it was obvious she was an emotional wreck. Things went downhill from that point.

I thought the whole thing could not possibly take longer than three days. It took almost three days just to get there. The ranch is right by the Nevada/Utah border. Just under 50 acres. The property was a total disaster inside and out. There were animals running loose all over the place. A pack of dogs practically woudn't let me drive up to the house. There were goats eating everything. There was a very nice older horse, but he had a big dip in his back. Cows, I still don't know how I feel about them. I had really never met chickens and turkeys. Of course I had seen them before. Now I know they are very mean. Wild cats aren't much better. There were mice in the hay. I hate mice. I think there were even snakes.

The house was filthy! No phone, no TV, an ancient radio tuned to the farm station, an ancient stove and a refrigerator that barely worked. I made a nest for my friend, gave her the book from my purse and drove back to the nearest town with a store and charged all sorts of cleaning stuff and food that would be easy for me to cook. When I returned I tackled the kitchen. There was not a clean plate or fork, nothing clean. The were can goods that I think were ancient. I cleaned and scrubed. At the same time, I poured bleach all over the bathroom, let it soak in and kill all little critters, and then mopped it all up, walls too. Used pumice stone on anything I was gonna sit on or stand on.

By this time I was totally pissed. I was so sure I was being used and abused. I was sort of beyond the pale. I worked hard on saying the Serenity Prayer over and over. I think it might now be imbeded in my brain. I could not walk on or see the floor of the bedroom. Even the hallway was filled on both sides with all sorts of stuff. Fortunately the neighbor who had been tending to the animals offered to get me boxes and he did a really good job. It took more than one day to go through and pack or throw out all the crap that was piled to the ceiling in the bedroom. That was also true for the dining room, front room and the other bedroom which was the worst. My fing er nails are gone, I missed my soap operas and I have purple, green and yellow boobs, arms, legs and back. Not attractive.

At night I sat outside with the dogs and two of the cats I had made friends with and listened to the silence. It was so dark. The stars were so bright, it was truly awesome. One of the truly invaluable truths about belonging to a 12 Step Program is the steps apply to every situation. As soon as I got me out of the way, and all the negative thinking it truly worked to focus on what I was doing and feeling, and why I was there. I began to see I had been given the opportunity of truly making a difference and being of service. For hours on end I sang at the top of my lungs, and told stories about murder mystery books to my friend. I made her laugh, which then made me laugh too. I didn't bitch or complain to her about the conditions I found myself in. One step at a time. Do what has to be done. Do more than I think I can, because I can, one step at a time. I have learned to channel my anger into action. For me it really works. Turn it over, don't dwell on negative things, no point, and I can end up wallowing in crap I have no control over. Just do it.

It wasn't three days it was three weeks. It was a test and I think I passed. My friend recovered to the point where she was able to discuss selling the property with a neighbor and the animals were given to the man who had been caring for them.

It makes me laugh to think this LA girl was watching mice run around. I am grateful.