48 days straight with temperatures over 100 degrees (and it was 99.8 the day before that). No rain. Back to school traffic. And, of course, funerals and memories of funerals.
I feel like Frodo, stuck on the side of Mt. Doom, accompanied by Samwise Gamjee and the creepy critter Gollum. Surrounded by bloodthirsty orcs and giant spiders, my last crumbs of elven bread just went tumbling down the mountain. Exhausted, hot, tired, hungry and thirsty and filled with the knowlege I may not make it down alive, how can I go on?
The truth is that I don’t know. We just do. We persevere and then one day it is better. It rains, or it’s a little cooler. The kids make us laugh instead of bickering constantly. Old friends call and we remember the good times. We shift our focus from the shadows to the light. Inch by inch, we recover.
However, just because I understand the journey, doesn’t mean I like it. ‘Cause I don’t.