This is both my Tuesday entry and a journal entry.

I've had three deaths in the past month. One a friend, one an uncle, and one person who I did not get along with.

I really don't think these "poor little me" bits are healthy, but my blogging took a hit and I wanted people to know why. Since my companion passed last fall, I'm not dealing well with people I know passing.

The friend wasn't a close friend, just someone I had known for a long time.

My uncle was my mother's older brother. You know that old story about the oldest son being allowed to get away with anything because he was the older son? That was my uncle. He was the troublemaker. Still, he did things mostly right. He gave the world two sons and laid the groundwork for many grandchildren. He was a party guy, but he'd bend over backwards and jump for family and his friends. This was the guy who'd take you fishing and hunting and then help you bury bodies.

And then there was the other person. We kept bumping into each other over the years. There were a few epic arguments. I can't blame it all on her. She did win in the end though. She left special instructions that I be invited to the funeral. What was I supposed to do with that? Say no? Tell her family that I couldn't be bothered?

People passing makes me think of mortality. I'm my mother's caregiver and I worry about her. But I worry about me too. I can't hike and walk like I used to, my feet don't like me and I don't like them. I can hear my joints rubbing against each other, especially in my neck. My handwriting has gotten worse. There are days it hurts too much to type. I spend more time than I should coughing up phlegm. I don't sleep particularly well and that makes me even more paranoid. I'm getting older and I don't think it will end well. My family is long lived but I'm not sure.

These toxic politics have made things worse. I see pagans more interested in making their mark than in nurturing the Earth. I see devotion to the gods replaced by tribal identity. I see the endless oneupmanship and "gotcha" attacks. I see us concentrating on our differences rather than what we share. And I think I have been too big a part of that.

The sun still rose this morning. It was particularly gorgeous, but I only noticed after I took the trash out. I stopped to think then, I had not greeted the sun in more than a month. Thoughts of death pushed thoughts of dawn out of my head. Only happenstance made me notice. That's not who I want to be. That's not what I want to share.

I still have time. I do not know how much. But some.