No, it's not. I didn't mean to be so cryptic. I meant it literally. Many of those dearest to me have passed away. I find myself imagining they can hear my thoughts. I say things to them, silently, in my head. I imagine I'm with them, being heard by them.

I think this shows me to be a little kooky. But, then, I see people on Facebook often talking to their departed parents. They post notes to their deceased mother or father, telling them how grateful they are for the way they were reared and how much they miss them. I'm no crazier than them. I really don't get why people post these notes on Facebook. They want an audience to behold how devoted they are. It seems kind of show-offy to me.

Facebook annoys me. Mothers, nowadays, post notes to their adult children, telling them how wonderful they are. They list their many splendid virtues, which always include "how caring" the son or daughter has turned out to be . . . how "amazing" they are. Again, they want an audience to hear what paragons of goodness their children are. I think parents, today, are afraid their children won't love them, unless they flatter them constantly and publicly profess loving them "to the moon and back." It gets on my nerves. Everyone claims to be so "blessed." Sounds phoney and forced. I know I'm a crank. Crazy, too. But . . . there's a lot of crazy going around.