I see that a number of people are worried about me, they believe I am  having a very rough week. these concerns are sweet, and I appreciate them.

Most of you know about Ed Gulley, a good friend who died of brain cancer last week, and yesterday, I wrote about the death of Bob Mather, someone Red and I visited regularly at the Mansion.

I got a lot of messages expressing sympathy for me, many mentioned that they were thinking of me as I must be having a rough week.

These are very good people and it is very meaningful to me that they worried about me. Lovely, actually. I felt the death of Ed Gulley acutely, Bob was a sweet and wonderful man. I do not grieve as a rule for Mansion residents who die.

If you work in assisted care, almost everyone you know will become ill and die, sooner rather than later. I keep a boundary around those relationships, death is a part of this experience, and if I grieved deeply for everyone I have worked with, I would flame out in a month.

That might sound cold, but that is the deal I agree to. I do this work I love, there will be a lot of sickness and struggle and loss. That’s the bargain. I am neither surprised nor done in by it.

I was grateful for Ed’s death, he and his family were suffering in an awful way. I am glad he is no longer in pain and confusion, and I am glad Carol and  her family can begin the long process of healing and moving on with their lives.

I believe I was faithful to Ed, and also that he lived a full and rich life. It was time for him to go, he was getting to place he never wanted to be.

That is  how I look at grieving, for people, for animals. It is a part of life, it will come to all of us. It is sad, but not only sad, and life must go on. I feel death very strongly, it will not make my life a misery.

I will be honest, as I try to be, and confess that I had the same reaction to the people who approached me here in person this week with very long and sad faces as if I were to be pitied or was in need of comforting. Or as if I had cancer.

I felt I must be conveying something I didn’t mean to convey, because I am not having a rough week, I’m having a very good week. And I am absolutely not in need of pity. I have never been happier, or had more purpose.

In a sense, this week is a landmark week for me and the Army of Good, we  have never done more for more people. We have never done as many small acts of great kindness or made such a difference in people’s lives. We are really learning how to do it without getting too large or complex.

I take photos of everyone we help, so you all can see who is getting the money you send and what for.

Yesterday, Kelly Patrick burned the tent she has been living in and moved into her new and clean and warm double-wide trailer, in plenty of time before winter to get settled. This week, the soccer team went on a forest adventure at Ramblewild and spent a day at the Great Escape.

I am determined to get them to the New England  Aquarium soon. And I will fully support the soccer team as it moves into the regular playing schedule, mostly against much bigger and better funded teams.

This week, blog readers adopted two homeless and battered dogs from the Friends Of Homeless Animals, part of something new here on the blog. I love helping vulnerable dogs find good homes, another good use of the blog.

My daughter Emma adopted a Kentucky Cur she is calling Sandy (above) she and Robin are crazy about the dog. Once again, the crate has really helped. Emma is not nervous any longer, so is no longer in need of my input. That’s the way it’s supposed to work.

This week, a lovely woman gravely ill with cancer sent me a large donation to use as I wish with the refugees and Mansion residents. Her faith in me and her wonderful gesture brought me to my knees.

My new dog Bud is recovering from his heartworm treatment and will be coming here the first week of October. I am supporting a wonderful rescue group called Friends Of Homeless Animals, it seems natural to me to help needy dogs as well as needy people. And evolution for me.

I am working on my next and probably last hardcover book for Simon and Schuster, it is tentatively called Gus And Bud: A Tale Of Two Dogs And A Time Of Transition.

This week, I bought tickets so that every Mansion resident who wishes to go can come along on a two hour lunch and cruise boat ride on Lake George in September.

In the last month, Ali and I and the Army of Good have helped one immigrant find an apartment, helped two refugee mothers move their families to safer and better places, bought more than $1,000 in clothes for refugee children, boys and girls.

I couldn’t begin to list all of the help we have offered the Mansion residents, from clothes to books to cameras to air conditioners for the grueling summer.

Maria is cranking out more Vulva potholders and beautiful quilts. She is much loving the creative side of the Vulva  Experience.

I have love and connection in my life,  all kinds of good plans, for me, my work, the refugees, the soccer team, the Mansion residents. It has not been a tough week for me, I respect life and live very much in the present and with an eye on tomorrow.

The news we hear every day is disheartening and sometimes frightening. All the more certain I am that I wish to respond in a positive way, small acts of great kindness have kept me grounded.

I am learning from this experience not to tell other people what they must be feeling, no matter how well meaning that seems, but to to ask them if I wish to know.

And I remind myself every day of my life that so many people on this  earth have it so much worse than me, and have so many harder battles to fight than I do. I will not ever forget that.

What kind of week am I having? The truth is, I am having a great week.