I'm not a writer or a diarist. And, though it's the holiday season, this will not be a particularly festive diary. It's not in celebration of anything and won't be particularly long. And now for the few of you I haven't turned completely off by telling you what I'm not and what this diary isn't, I will let you know it's actually a love letter to Markos and the incredibly wonderful people he has put together to make Daily Kos possible, and the various and sundry souls who come here to read, to learn, to critique, to find friends and kindred spirits.It's the only place I know of where you come in as a stranger and leave as a friend. If you'd like to know more about some of my friends, please follow below the fold.
I actually came here off and on for a few years, I guess, starting about five years ago. I was a fearful lurker, being from the south, and hearing only about the evil orange satan, I was afraid to read too much and become corrupted. I read in secret. I didn't want to risk getting kicked out of the bridge club. And, not being too brilliant, I only read the left side of the page. I had no idea what a diary was. I kept this up until about ten months or so ago when I read a diary. And then a second one. And by the third, I was hooked and I daresay I haven't missed many diaries since then. And I didn't even care if I got kicked out of the bridge club. It's sad that the small southern town I grew up in has some really kind people and I have nothing in common with them and the friendships therefore stay so shallow. I've been a liberal since I lived in Baltimore and Florence, Italy for 12 years, I just sort of keep it to myself because I do like to have friends.
And that's where my kossacks come in. I have found more love and caring on this site than in any "real" place I've ever been in. I guess I'll start with nurse Kelley since she was my first outside contact. She held my hand and encouraged me when I wrote my Kosability diary on being molested and years later raped with a gun at my head. She knew it was hard to write about, and she was there for me every step of the way, and since then in other ways. And I'll brag and say I'm only one of her little special mailing lists where I get news a little sooner from her. (Spare me, Kelley, if 287,583 are also on it. It's my great claim to fame.)
Our dearly beloved exme was the second person I personally e-mailed. I also read everything I could find that she wrote, over and over, I devoured her writings and was awestruck at the beauty and sense of them. She was truly like an angel come down from heaven, and who knows, maybe she was. I knew her at the end of her life, so our e-mails were rather short, but they were to the point and loving. I would have saved them, but with all the hope of MD Anderson and this great surgery and exme's courage and my magical thinking, I just thought she'd be around for a lot more e-mails.
I think next came the IGTNT team. My son-in-law will be deployed soon to Afghanistan, I lost a step-brother in Vietnam and I had a great desire to help out the team. And I can tell you that the goodness of them that shines through in their diaries is merely a reflection of their true selves. I find myself in tears at e-mails I get from them. My youngest child, who is 35 and still often called baby Kate, has a brain tumor, they just found out she has nodules on her thryroid and two days ago she was broadsided in her car by a lousy driver. Upon hearing this the IGTNT team took over my research and diaries, they prayed, they called, they wrote, they encouraged,they supported, and once again, through my tears, I felt uplifted. I can't began to say what this team has meant to me or how kind they are. A special shout out to Sandy on Signal, JaxDem and CalNM - all who are caregivers themselves and are now taking care of me.
Next are my three horsewomen of the apocalypse. They're separate and somehow go together in my mind. I have told them all, that, along with nurse kelley, they each have a bit of exme in them. It makes me feel not so without her. There's Aji, who blooms like the morning sun wherever she is planted and who has given me much joy. I even bought a bracelet of Wing's and here I am in freezing Kansas, still wearing my down vest with my right sleeve pulled up so everyone can see my bracelet. Who me? No, I"m not cold. Sara r of course is next, how can Sara not have part of exme in her? The good she does for people, the happiness she brings, her very existence is the essence of love. And last, but certainly not the least of my horsewomen is kitsap river. Lovely Kitsap. Kitsap who suffers in silence and appreciates all the world offers her, no matter how distasteful it sometimes is. I'm so grateful she has Charles. My horsewomen, too, have my daughter and I in their minds and are, each in their own spiritual way, doing their part for her health. And did I mention Kitsap's voice? It is nothing less than enchanted.
Another dear heart to me that helps keep my spirits up is Vetwife. She is a person who has helped so many, and done so much for vets, along with taking care of her own husband who is a vet. She is always there for me when I am down and need someone.
Lastly, I have my GUS team. I quit smoking 26 days ago and the Gus team was a huge help to me. Somebody's always there when you want a cigarette and they will encourage you to do other things than smoke and sometimes send you disgusting pictures of ash trays - that worked with me one day. Flumptytail was the first Gussack I knew and then there's Vacationland, Safina, JayinPortland, aoeu, wordsinthewind (my favorite name) - and many more. I am now a non-smoker with much thanks going to them.
And now that I've written this and read it again and my heart is full and overflowing with memories of all these people I've written of, I don't think the title does this diary service. There's so much more than love and gratitude, but I just can't find the words.