Our dance has moved from a slow, careful waltz to a manic tango. The music sometimes louder than our thoughts. Our steps awkward and graceless. But we move on...The fish market was closed so we instead visited dark places with demons and exorcists shuffling around us. They finally let us sleep until the sun rose and we again entered the shadows by a different path. This time Dr. Happy led us through a maze of obstacles that ended in an explosion of water and ice and shards of anger that cut deeply. And still the gambol of confusion led us back to where we started, under the full moon with chimes pealing and sparks flying. We sat for five days on the edge of our seats, in a fog of cigarette smoke while our pillar of strength leaned into a flurry of cleaning, as if to wash away the goblins of panic and fear that surrounded us all. And then she came home again...broken, lost, but ours to love and care for until the healing takes place. Each day is a new challenge...yet we dance on...
