Many of you know that I spent two years in abject, if not actual, isolation in the hills of West Virginia while I took care of my mother until last October. My tenure came to a close as Mom's condition merited more care than I could supply and she was moved to a managed care facility. (This translates to "nursing home" in most people's vernacular; but "managed care facility" seems so much nicer somehow.)

What you don't know is that for well over a year, the only relief I got was approximately fifteen hours (most of which was in the middle of the night) twice each month. The local pool of CNA's, GNA's or even untrained caregivers was scant and already quite overbooked. No other relief was available. Meanwhile, the majority of my contact with adults other than my marginally conversational (due to Alzheimer's) mother was by way of the Mudcat. I was needy and there were those who recognized that and acted upon it. Many evenings, after Mom was finally sound asleep, there were 'Catters who chatted with me on ICQ until the wee hours. There were others who shared music with me on PalTalk, sent emails, PM's, cards and even packages in the mail. Some of my dearest friendships developed during that time.

There was one 'Catter in particular who lived hundreds of miles away and whom I had barely (and only virtually) met; but who gave me an amazing gift. Almost immediately upon learning of my predicament the offer was made to visit for a few days, during which time my post would be assumed by this generous-beyond-belief Mudcatter. After much discussion the deal was sealed. Before long, I found myself face-to-face with someone so obviously kind that after only a short time, I felt comfortable with leaving the Mudcatter in charge while I took a break. By the way, Mom was absolutely thrilled to have someone new in the house.

Now, you might think this is almost unbelievable. Let me stretch your imagination even more. A few months later, the 'Catter returned and gave me a break again!!