Things kind of came to a head this weekend. Bachelorette party was great, then I got unbelievably ill and eventually had to be spoon fed water so I didn't die of dehydration, then David had a terrible cold and lost his voice and needed to spend the day unconscious and in bed. Under normal circumstances, these events would be minimal and fine. I am in my fifth months of living alone, without a job, sometimes going days without seeing anyone else. There were a lot of tears this weekend, and sobs, and calling of mothers in hysterical tears and sobs. My flight home for Christmas has been pushed up to next Sunday. The day after The-Oldest-and-Best's wedding. I'm going to get Susie a car carrier and we're heading back to the south, to spend a month with family. Our tickets are one way. We don't know when we're coming back to Pennsylvania or what's going to happen. We know we need sisters, and Daddies and Mummies and snuggly Christmas trees and safe spaces.
We will send a post card from the safe space. When we find it.