Make no mistake...

I spent my night sleeping in my van and waking up every hour to the sound of the freight trains barreling by just across the busy highway in the lot of a volunteer Fire Department parked next to a dumpster that smelled of feral cat musk. I walked most of the day alongside the four lane divided highway with the road disappearing out of my line of sight far ahead in the distance. Cars would stop some distance ahead and snap a novelty picture, the occupant would sometimes wave, not in thanks or to say hello, but to get me to get the friendlier shot. Then they would drive off without a, "How do you do."

When I am rolling along the berm of the highway, I am constantly pushing against the World, against gravity, to keep it from rolling down the slope. This I do with one arm that aches as the other steers the rope attached to an old willow staff I hold in the other. Wrapped around my wrist is the leash for the eighty pound force of nature I call Nice (the dog) who remembers every car and truck that has ever given us a ride and pulls ahead when he sees the model of his favorite friends -- especially if they toot the horn as they speed by at sixty-five miles per hour or better.

All during the day yesterday my Blackberry that safely hangs on the only safe place on my person where it will not get lost or crushed is from a string about my neck was blinging prompts to FaceBook from dozens of people who were requesting to be friends. Apparently we had been covered heavily in the day's news cycle, and it is just a cycle - I'd rather create a movement for fitness for the prevention and control of diabetes and an online bombardment of donations to every diabetic organization on the planet. But for the day, Nice (the dog) got more buzz than the cat who was called for jury duty and for the day Ted had nothin' on me.

When I finally decided to stay awake and write a post (I never know what I will write) it pressed on my chest-top and Facebook was on screen. Blackberry has a simple format that shows a place for my status and the latest status of my friends and I can usually see the most recent list. There on top was the post of a friend that announced that at 3:30 a.m. her Mother passed, that she was her hero. I don't know how her mom died, but I do know it can be the most moving event in a child's life, young or old. The tears rolled...

Make no mistake, I don't like having my picture taken. I don't enjoy walking. Carrying a backpack is a burden. And without Vermont's Original Bag Balm I would be chapped and walking like a bow legged cowboy.

Make no mistake, If not for the love and memory of my Hero, Mom...