I think I worried you all, by accident, by my posts last night.
Nothing happened, I just faced a fear of what could happen, a very specific and (*gulp*) possible outcome. It was awful and for one split second I understood Romeo and Juliet, but the second is over and I cheated the particular sort of death I was fearing, at least for now, and I know I could face it for real if I had to, without checking to see if I could fly, or anything of the sort. (I demand to live, more so than average.)
This test of faith has left me a little tired and thin, but like Peppermint Patty’s nose kept her from sliding under her desk when she fell asleep at her desk, my life has a lot of built-in safety catches.
And so this weekend I’m going to see one of my mothers and one of my brothers, in San Fransisco. And we’re going to giggle and barbeque and take the ferry into the city, and there I will meet for the first time, a very dear friend of a friend, who told me that introducing me to her was like pulling out the special china when I come to dinner.
I never have to ask for help, it catches onto me and holds tight.
I am so safe. Not just because I’m ok, but because even if I wasn’t, I would be.