More surgery to come but much in between

I went to the Optegra Hospital again today. The purpose was to check the right eye, upon which I had vitrectomy surgery three weeks ago. They eye is fine and the second operation is scheduled for May 8th, unless I change my mind. I do not think I shall. Perhaps I shall start driving again after my eye is healed.

The weather is cold and windy again. It seems that there is, or was, a storm called Stella across the Atlantic and this is the very tail end of it. I must wrap up in warmer clothes when I visit the nursing home tomorrow. The old man was fairly receptive yesterday. He ate most of a sugary ring doughnut. At one time he would eat a lot of cake or chocolate, but now his appetite has declined. I shall take custard tarts and chocolate tomorrow. I have been responsible for this sick old man for eight years now. His name is William and he likes to be called Bill. He was married to my mother's youngest sister. When I agreed to have his powers of attorney I had not seen him for forty years. It was always understood that when my aunt or uncle died, my youngest brother would deal with everything that arises when someone dies. He was my aunt's favourite. My aunt was very close to this brother's third wife at one time, until Sharon (for such was her name) became an alcoholic and suffered a complete change of personality. I did not know until my aunt died that wills had been changed and I had been appointed executor. I have wondered since if my aunt knew that I would look after her widower when she was gone, although my brother probably would not. It is a complicated story.

I have been thinking of my son in these past few days. The anniversary of his sister's death was last Friday and when she died I hoped for a reconciliation. I still worry about him and wonder if he is lonely, if he has a job and enough to eat. I wonder if he bothers to wash and launder his clothes. I know that he gets very depressed. It will be his birthday just before Easter. I cannot send him birthday wishes because, apart from sending him a message on Facebook which he probably would not see, I have no way of communicating with him. I know that he would reject my good wishes anyway, so it is best not to bother.

A very dear friend, who was once a relative, has recommended that I read a book called The Shack. It is about why bad things happen to good people and she has received comfort from it. She has been through a lot in her life and experienced much pain. She is now full of anxiety over her mother, who has had heart surgery and is not doing well. She lives in the mid-west and is a Baptist. I have no religious faith but sometimes envy those who have. There is a audio version of the book. Perhaps I shall buy it and listen. I think that perhaps religion is like a virus; some people succumb, others are immune. I was not brought up to be religious and life has taught me that some of the people who profess to have great religious faith have little concept of kindness or humanity.  I do not know if I am a good person. I suppose I try to be.