I've been up to raid my friend Mia's house - pulling data off her computer, grabbing CD's for her to listen to.
Some of the copses of trees still had snow under them. Anyplace else in world - everyplace else - is well into Spring.
Maine? Not so much.
I celebrated my birthday weekend by sitting in the hospital emergency room with her. We were worried some kind of "incident" had occurred in her brain - but it was just an infection. Many, many tests and a long time sitting in a curtained room telling knock-knock jokes to keep up our spirits.
A final determination sent her back to her facility at 4 a.m. - and I crawled off to sleep in the bath.
On the same day I found myself scheduled for full shifts as a Creative at the Orchard.
This was the start of the payoff I've taken so many risks to play for.
So it has been a week of startling contemplations: The stark, transitory beauty of late Winter/early Spring in the mountains of Maine.
The danger of losing one of my oldest friends ever - and then getting her back, at least most of her.
Getting a chance to do what I do well (besides write music) which is explain and help people find more ways to be themselves.
Now I learn my father's wife (I can't call her my "stepmother") has had a stroke. I'm taking steps to support him (which I'll write about later).
I hope the toughening such transitions require is worth the inevitable systemic strain they cause.
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