Concerning Eeyore and Rocinante

[mamagotcha]

So you remember Eeyore, the depressed donkey that was always gloomy and morose in the Winnie the Pooh books? I've been ruminating upon him lately, because I bet the poor old bastard had arthritis.

Comments

[elainetyger]

I erased the comments I wrote because they were giving you advice, and you and I are different kinds of people.

Instead I will talk about playing Scrabble with my friend H who died 2 months ago. For a couple of months, I went every week to visit him in the post-hospital rehab where he had to stay until he could get a prosthesis to replace the amputated leg. H and I were never friends until this point, but no one else was visiting him, and I remembered what it was like after my accident the year before... the times I had visitors, the times I didn't.

I started out with the fantasy that I could change him, bring some sunshine into his life and make him a happier person. I enjoy playing Scrabble with someone who beats me roughly every other game, as long as the games moves along at a good clip, and as long as their attitude isn't so bad that they are cursing the luck of the draw from the tile bag.

H was terrible at making friends and at keeping them. He had a lot to complain about, but the substance of the complaints was teeny in comparison to the embellishment of them and dwelling on them and wallowing in them. Even when half my waking hours on a Saturday were consumed in commuting to and from him in the snow, he would never say gee, I really appreciate you coming, but instead would complain and cry (literally) that no one else would visit him.

Eventually when it came time to remove the plate and screws from my leg, and my pain was increasing by the week, I decided that I could no longer visit him every week, and shortly after my surgery decided that my next visit to H would be my last. I saw him once more when we were both at the same event, and he was happy to see me and was forcing himself to have a good day, and I was glad of that.

When I heard that he died, I felt sad that I could not make a friendship with him as I had hoped at first, but that kind of friendship was not possible because he didn't have the heart for it. It was as if he needed to be miserable in order to be happy. I did not want to be completely miserable and he did not want to be completely happy, so our friendship could only work for limited times and not go too deep. I felt glad that I had done my part, even if it was just a walk-on part and not a starring role, and that I had protected myself from absorbing someone else's demons.

There are easy parts and difficult parts to every living situation, whether alone or with others. Every new day, every breath sometimes, is a blessing. Tomorrow is not guaranteed for any of us. I wish you will enjoy the blessings of your days.

[mamagotcha]

Thank you. Your words and perspective are greatly valued. I remember reading somewhere that there was a lot of choice involved in madness, and it seems that there's quite a bit also involved in happiness as well.