Feeling down and lousy.

A whole pocket full of troubles are weighing me down. First off, number three son has been hospitalized for some weeks for a variety of problems or ailments. The youngest daughter invited Frieda to go with her. I invited myself along as well, as I'm no longer a safe driver the distance the trip had to go. This girl, she's worrying something fierce over her brother’s multiple conditions. Worst part we can’t seem to find anyone to talk to. But, seeing him for ourselves, Frieda and I, I don’t see a happy recovery for this young man (44 yrs). In the psychiatric ward of the hospital they are merely keeping him comfortable. Talking with him he’s telling us about all the people he’s seeing, all these people having passed away four, six, nine, twelve, fifteen, twenty years ago. My trying to inspire, encourage, getting going, him he told, “I had gotten up this morning and let the dog out.”
Looking at him he appears to have no use of his hands and wrists, his hands simply drooping appendages on the ends of his arms. He’s no inclination to try and fight his way out of that bed. He appears to have given up on life. He looks and acts like given up living his life. He appears to have no ambition, no goals, no desire to improve his lot. It’s as if he’s nothing to live for? This last line is likely the closest of all the truths being right.
Worst part I can’t do a thing for him. I can’t take away and absorb his pain. While he recognized me I’ve no idea if he’ll remember I had even been to see him tomorow. There’s nothing I may do for him, what only he must do for himself.
Second, the weather is no help the pressure generating a dandy sinus headache. Third, trying to find time and a dry place to hang even one muffler under ugly hasn’t been easy; although, in-spite of the first two mind benders. I got to lay under Ugly about most of this very afternoon grinding old rusted parts off Ugly using shiny new bolts putting Ugly’s breathing back together again making for a much quieter operating machine in coming, passing, and going away. I hope I’ve crossed up all the neighbors, They’ve been telling they’ve know which way I was going listening even if I were a mile away.
Head pounding, this is it. Between lack of ambition and near totally wasted under a pounding headache, I may not be right for a couple days. BGKC.
Fernan
PS: There is a best part. Maybe tomorrow night?