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blizzard warnings - 13:52 , 03 October 2013

heelerless - 21:32 , 18 August 2013

Red Coat Inn in Fort McLeod - 11:38 , 23 June 2013

rushing into the waters - 09:53 , 21 June 2013

choosing a spot - 17:43 , 27 April 2013

14 July 2002 - 22:38

helpless

Been having a hard time writing this entry. Should have been done much earlier today. Had planned on an amusing entry about heelers and hair driers, but not today. Not now.

Been thinking about the wisdom of reading online diaries. There is so much to gain, so many lives to peek into.

So much insight to gather. I am not the person I was when I started this.

But Melissa and I have discussed this before. There is a price for all this expansion of one's life. Yes, you get to share in the delights of others' lives, and their accomplishments.

You also share in their doubts. And their difficulties.

An online friend has come to a difficult place in the path she has chosen. And to make matters worse, the one who is supposed to be helping her along their path together is, instead, making things more difficult.

And it's like I'm clear across a canyon, a great void, able to watch, but do nothing else. Yes, I can shout words of encouragement, but does that really help?

If I were closer, I might be able to spot a route up the cliff, away from the ledge she feels she is stranded on. That would be helpful. Or I could yell at her companion, if he would heed me, so that they were at least working as a team again.

But I can do none of these things. I see the ledge she is on, but I cannot see a way for her to get off. Not from where I sit. My view is incomplete, my view too distant. Whatever advice I give might send them off on a worse path.

But I know this woman, having read her words for so many months. While she may not have a driver's license, I know she does have a good heart. She sees what is truly important in life.

All I can shout across the canyon is the advice that she should follow it. Follow her heart.

And remember the climber's rule. Plan your route, and take small, careful steps.

What else can I say, except that I will be watching from afar, and rooting for her. And hoping her path gets easier.

Another diarist I read has also been having a rough go of it. All I can say is, I am glad I didn't log on today until after her second entry of the day.

If I had read last night's (or this morning's) entry first, I don't know what I would have done. She gave us her last name once, but being an amateur stalker, I never wrote it down. But today I wanted that name. Today I needed to make a phone call north.

Or, as I pointed out to the wife. It's only a six hour drive. But would I be welcome? Or just a hindrance?

Again I have absolutely no advice to give. Nor any reason to believe it would be wanted. But if you just need someone to lend an ear, you know the name. You know the town. Call. Collect.

Have been mentioning this feeling of helplessness to the wife.

She accepts it without comment. No lectures about getting involved with people over the internet. And she's not heartless. After reading about the problems at Mexico City's new airport in this morning's paper, she asks "Did Silver get out?"

I had to snicker to myself. As if moving from Mexico City to California is like escaping from Alcatraz. Or fleeing from Bosnia. But I didn't snicker out loud. At least I know she listens to me.

And there is no condescension in her attitude, either. Even though she deals with people facing personal difficulties every day, but hers are face to face. Nor can she talk about these people with me. "Client confidentiality," you know.

But she is not helpless. There are limits to what she can do, but she is there to help.

I, on the other hand, am helpless. And I know this entry shouldn't even be about me. But what else can I say?

It's not a good feeling.

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