You know that quote “all good things come to those who wait” and the platitude “everything happens for a reason” which we console ourselves with when faced with crushing disappointment? If you detest them then stop reading NOW because this is the next installment of one of THOSE stories.
By now she is driving a newer, more reliable car. She has a serious discussion with her family outlining the necessity of Mom getting away for a weekend. She has spent the past few months running the “parental taxi service” to and from music lessons, band rehearsal, social engagements, even the beach . She has stayed close to home, marshaling the dogs during the onslaught of exterior renovations. Not much of the hiking and camping trips to which she is accustomed have occurred this summer. The prospect of a future where Mom has lost her sanity is a dismal image. An agreement is reached; Mom’s happiness is to everyone’s benefit. She makes plans to travel to Cambridge for a day. When one Open Group member offers to host a potluck social for fellow members on the evening prior to the Open House, response is enthusiastic. By now all accommodations in the Cambridge area are booked solid. Some Open Ground members offer spare rooms or couch space for those in need of places to stay. Staying with people she’s only met on line? That is about as crazy as her hosts taking in people they’ve only met on line. Somehow these Open Group members are not strangers. No, they are more like old friends who have not yet met in person. Emails filled with anticipation and friendly exchanges fly back and forth. Labor Day weekend arrives. Usually a time of bittersweet transition from easy summer days to structured chaos she finds herself chuckling with excitement. The morning of departure dawns damp and foggy. The porch steps are slick from last night’s rains. As she takes the dog out for a quick walk before leaving, she slips, tumbling to the ground. She lands on her right wrist. There is an audible pop, she sees stars and there is a rush of breath taking pain. “No,” she thinks “no, no no…” ( to be continued)
