I have just heard that a dear friend of mine, Ruth Burgess, may not be with us for very much longer. She is well into her 80's and has had a full life, but I do feel sad. I feel sad mostly because I knew she appreciated our contact and in the last years I did not make much more of an effort other than birthday and Christmas cards. I could have picked up the telephone but I didn't. (She lives in Ontario, Canada). This is a reminder to me, to all of us, not to 'let things go' until it's too late.

I first met Ruth in my early 30's. At that time I was trying to supplement my then husband's income from teaching martial arts by cleaning houses and giving personal health and exercise guidance. Ruth lived alone in a small apartment in downtown Toronto. I came to her to clean but soon was hired to help her lose weight and ease the pain of arthritis by gentle massage.

I enjoyed my time with Ruth - she never minced words and appreciated good conversation and laughter. She loved good films, books and art. Her rooms were small but decorated vibrantly, as if from a bygone age, one of high society, dances, gallant men and fiery, beautiful women.

Ruth was a fine painter, and her grandmother was Ruth Payne Burgess, a highly regarded painter in the early 1900's - from 1905 to 1910, she served in New York as president of the National Association of Women Artists. She was also president of the Art Students League and active in numerous other New York art associations.

Ruth (the granddaughter, my friend) had lived a full and exciting life in New York & other countries before her life in Canada ( I don't remember the details, but I think her husband was a diplomat) . I think she always missed traveling and her life in America. In Toronto, she was one of the first ( if not the first ) female real estate agents. She also sold jewelry in Cartier's where she met many famous people. While I was massaging her knees she would regale me with stories of charming and not so charming men who came in to buy jewels for their wives (and mistresses). Donald Sutherland was one of her favourite customers.

Over the years Ruth became more and more immobile. She relished any news of the outside world, particularly if I had gone traveling. She was in my life and very supportive when I went through a very bad patch, with my then husband extremely ill in hospital and the subsequent break up of our marriage.

In some ways Ruth reminds me of my grandmother, also an artist and a feisty woman not afraid to speak her mind. I did not have a good relationship with my grandmother and she died in my early teens. Perhaps Ruth mended something there for me.

Ruth once told me something I will never forget (this about 15 years ago) - I was very depressed about my life, feeling I was going 'nowhere'. She said, "but you are a very successful person'. I treasure this moment and have passed her words along to others who needed to hear the same thing.

Soon after I left Toronto ( about 7 years ago) Ruth went into a home as she was no longer able to take care of herself. I knew this was a step she feared - her independence was very important to her, as was having her own things around her. I think her health went slowly downhill.

Ruth loves eagles. These beautiful birds are a symbol of strength, ferocity, vision, endurance, inner strength and transcendence. I wish for her at this time of passage all these things, and freedom from the physical pain I know has been her daily companion these last years.

I am sorry I have not been a better friend.

I keep checking the calendar to see if January's over. I keep thinking we are nearing the end only to find out that we are not even half-way.

It seems to be a 'difficult' month. I know several people going through depressions, hard times and the like. Three people close to me (in one way or another) have died. Admittedly two of old age, but one from a suicide. Yesterday was the anniversary of the death of a dear friend, (neither a suicide or from old age).

I personally can't seem to get up much enthusiasm for anything. I've been sick since the 31st of December, and know of several others in the same boat. I do seem to be getting better, and am a little more enthused otherwise I wouldn't be writing this blog. Other than that it's pretty much 'going through the motions'. I"m fine, it's not a big thing at all, but it does seem to be an all-over thing, at least for many.

I did a quick search and found some statistics for the late 90's - (American).

"In 1995, January had many more deaths than any other month (220,000). It was followed by March, April, and December. (February would have been second if it had had 31 days instead of 28). The month with the least deaths was September (178,000), followed by June, August, and May. The top day for death in 1992, the most recent year for which daily data are available, was January 3, when 7,422 Americans died. That is about 25 percent more than an average day in 1992."

I'm also wondering if a general low feeling is catching.

New Scientist published an article on the 30 December last year called "How your friends' friends can affect your mood" -  the implication being that it's not just your friends or people you know who can affect you.

"it is becoming clear that a whole range of phenomena are transmitted through networks of friends in ways that are not entirely understood: happiness and depression, obesity, drinking and smoking habits, ill-health, the inclination to turn out and vote in elections, a taste for certain music or food, a preference for online privacy, even the tendency to attempt or think about suicide. They ripple through networks "like pebbles thrown into a pond", says Nicholas Christakis, a medical sociologist at Harvard Medical School in Boston, who has pioneered much of the new work."