Reminding my autistic son before leaving, “Put on some deodorant, I don’t want you to look bad.”
The AAA tow truck delivering my disabled little red car into my driveway. Her weary radiator exhaled a white cloud and gave up the ghost. It could have been in the middle of nowhere. It could have been while booking down the highway, but no, it was a cool evening in the parking lot of the city park. I am grateful.
My friend Rita came into work at the care center and set a case of diet soda on the dresser of a new patient from her hometown. ” Here I owe you this.”
The worn but familiar face was puzzled.
“Remember I used to come over all the time to your house and visit your daughter?”
“Of course I do.” said the old woman.
“It wasn’t your husband that stole the Tab from under your bed. ”
Got the website going. annecarlson.net
It’s amazing the possibilities a new day brings.
Sometimes it seems my emotions are stuck back in the days of being a 14 year old. That’s the age I lost my mother.
A friend told me to write a letter to my teenage self, and tell my young self that its okay to grow up and that I will protect the younger self.
That reminded me of John Bradshaw’s inner child work. http://www.johnbradshaw.com/