Yesterday I was that old lady hunched over the steering wheel as I drove 8 hours home from my daughter’s place. I’m sure I looked a sight with my oxygen cannula stuck up my nostrils and all. My oxygen cannula that my 5 year old granddaughter had told me earlier that she’d stuck up her nose to see what it felt like.
The six lane highway was sheer ice for the first hour and more of my trip home. Dearest One talked me through it as I sobbed my head off due to my fear and anxiety.
My visit was the best of times and the worst of times. It ended with my daughter not speaking to me; no hugs goodbye from my granddaughters.
I could spin the whys of that any which way to suit me. Without the support and reassurance from my therapist these past few days, I would feel totally crazy in the head. But I’m not. Healing continues, but it sure is not for the feint of heart.
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