  Again with Ivy. I brought her up at dinner tonight with my extended family, so the topic is still as fresh at this hour as it was this late afternoon when I ran by the hospital. I thought some more about her on the way home. Yes, on the way home after drinking a 22oz. Korean beer and hitting the same freeway she crashed on, the I15. Ivy. Part of me has this hang up. I dont know her very well. But does that matter? Shes my classmate. I have this pestering thought, this imaginary eye that sees my compassion as an unnatural response. Sees my attention to this as suspect, smelling of something more having to do with me and my situation than her, a relative stranger.
Maybe. You know, maybe it is. Only six months ago I put myself in the hospital. Took myself there, granted, to get my 24 stitches in secret to mend a bloody mouth gaping from my forearm. Really, Ive felt the life of my own little self in jeopardy lately. Not since these new meds, but still. This year. Its still current in my memory, my reality. Death and tragedy is only a step away from all of us, no matter how we lead our lives.
So there. Thats my rationale. My world is suddenly stable, but I understand what its like to be in danger of losing everything. Only I asked for it, in a way. She did not. I need your help here, all of you blogger regulars. Tell me Can I/Should I do something to generate revenue to contribute into her soon-to-be-created charity fund at the local Washington Mutual? Or will you tell me to relax? That I dont need to come to a strangers rescue when some simple cards and emails will suffice from me.
But but most people suck when it comes to showing up when the feelings are difficult and theres a lot on the line. i mean, the ones who arent intimately involved. Other students? Do you think that many of her classmates are playing an active part? To me, this is about helping her parents too. I met her dad. And since I met him, I cant help but want to help. I have the energy to do more than just delivering one card. Will someone please give me permission to remain active in this?
Tthe world is a stage for despair, acted out again and again at every moment of every day. I feel more kinship with Ivy than I do 90% of the rest of the assholes that roam this planet. Crises define us. Maybe I need more definition. But really, Id like to think this has less to do with me. Im always giving too much. But Ive never had any complaints. Id like to think that the effort is being received. 
