CPS has been notified and of course can tell me nothing. My daughter checked in every few days for awhile but that has fallen off too. In the meantime I'm staying busy.
I have an office sharing thing going on at a local dog training facility. I watch the place so that the owner can have some free time in return for a place where I can work on writing and work my dog. It's been nice.
She had a nasty break-literally. She broke her wrist so I've been there quite a lot lately and it's probably been the best thing for me. Having to be somewhere and be somewhat together has kept me from brooding. Ok, it hasn't stopped me from brooding entirely, but it has helped.
I've got other stuff going on as well, though nothing as dramatic. After our December scare-both parents have stayed fairly healthy. I was worn out from that (Daddy almost died) until my daughter pops in with her daughter....oi.
When you give a horse medicine, you sometimes pinch their lips so they don't notice the shot or the nasty tasting stuff you are feeding them. Trouble is a bit like that as well-new trouble at least distracts you from the old trouble.
I was cleaning out the garage today and out of no where fell a package of photos from 1988 that belonged to Uncle John. I had a long cry over them. It was shots of where he hung out with his work buddies, his work place (they were on a project that was developing a wheel chair that could climb stairs) and his new at that time condo.
The condo was clean and sparkling and he even had a window pot of flowers on his patio. The beautiful trees I sat under when I was there taking care of things were little twigs in those photographs. He had an old Black and White TV set between his two prized antique radios-ones I gave away when we moved him to Texas.
I sat in my garage with the garage door opened and looked at picture after picture and cried and cried. First I cried because I was sad and miss John, followed by the usual bawl fest because his life ended so badly. Then I cried for awhile because I was happy to see that the last few years were not his entire life-there were good parts that I didn't really know about. The development lab that he loved, his work he was so proud of, his friends, his new condo.
Because I've been dealing with so much human carnage lately, it's easy to forget there is also some good stuff in life. Those pictures reminded me of that. Birth is probably traumatic (I don't remember) and death can be icky too. The part in between-that's life baby-and it's worth having.
Thanks for reminding me Uncle John.
I took some neat pictures today but they are still in the camera. Here's a funny one I took a week or so ago.
This is a collage I made from shots of Solo and the love of his life-the tennis ball.