I went to see my family. For a total of 7 hours of flying, over the course of 2 days. And very little sleep. I got to sit next to my brother with Parkinson’s and try to hear him while the other voices were loud and boisterous. He can barely manage a whisper, so the others decided to just ignore him. It was nice that I got a chance to sit with him. We know each other. We are the two odd-balls in the family. He went the religious route, and I turned to the bottle with a vengeance. The others were football players at famous universities, business people featured on covers of magazines, etc. Our successes in life are not like that. He had a great career and a lifelong marriage. He has two beautiful daughters and 8 grandkids. All well-behaved through a long Mass on Sunday morning. We are the introverts. You would never know what we think unless you ask us, and apparently no one cares enough to.
There is another brother I need to mention because he drives a couple hundred miles a couple times a month to go visit my ill brother. He lifts him into the car, and gets him out of the car, takes him places, and takes great care of him. I would be reticent if I failed to mention him. God bless him.
I got on the airplane and left the south with a pulled-pork sandwich in my belly and a bruised and broken heart. I want to cry for a day and a half. But I won’t. I have a day off today to recover. I will use it wisely. Crying would give me a headache and cause my face to swell.
My trip was all of 36 hours. But when I got home to my Rocky Mountain West, I was as grateful as if I had been gone a month. The crisp air, the mountains, my own home. My quiet home.
My neighbor fed the cat and picked some roses and put them in a vase with a welcome home note. That is what I got to see when I got home.
I am so grateful that somehow I escaped the life it seemed I was destined for. The life as a crazy drunken woman. A destiny to fit in the neat niche where I belong in my family. By the grace of God I did not do that.
By the Grace of God I have not found it necessary to take a drink of alcohol for 29 years and 11 months today. I got a reminder of what that means over the weekend.
And today though I would love to curl up under the blankets and read a book, I will instead put some hiking clothes on and head up the nearest mountain. I am sure I will be glad I did. I may come back home and curl up under the blankets though if I still feel like it!