Yesterday, I saw a white envelope labeled, "Laura" sitting upon the kitchen counter. It was scrawled in [aunt] Debbie's writing, and I smuggled it downstairs to read in private. Debbie has a way of bringing the bottled up emotions to the surface...I suppose it's healthy, but still not a process needing audience.

I broke the seal, and an angel pin fell into my palm. The golden cherub glittered and reflected light upon my skin as I extricated the card. It read,

"I know your world feels broken apart under the stress of what has happened. And sometimes your heart might feel shattered. I'm sorry it hurts so much and that you're having to go through this difficult time. But I also know that broken things can be transformed into beautiful mosaics. I believe that one day all the pieces of your world, all the tenderness of your heart will be restored. "

I am fortunate to have Debbie—she is a ready shoulder and a supporting arm. I often find it difficult to express my innermost emotions. I scarcely recognize them myself. It's survival, I suppose. I get up and ride the horse right away, before I have the chance to remember the fall...but it is important to think about that fall now and then.

I am taking the summer off, leastwise July, to spend with Mom. I finally made the decision to do so tonight. I've been poking around the job market amidst Miles saying, "Don't worry with that. Be with your mother," and Mom urging, "Take the summer off." I have struggled with the decision, but have decided to heed their advice.

We had a disappointing day today. There was a clinical trial available to Mom, one that she was eager to try. Unfortunately, it looks like insurance isn't going to cover the expense. We haven't received the official verdict, but preliminary investigation suggests so. It was a sucker punch. It is the risk you run when you hope. We need to take a deep breath, regroup, and hope anew.

Life hurts, I've discovered. That sounds naive, of course, but dramas in my life were limited until recent years. While the ache consumes me, I am struck by power of love. It is love that gives us hurt, love that gives us joy. As a young student, I skimmed a book passage that read, "Hatred is too close to love...the worst you can feel for another person is nothing at all." I am proud of my ache, I am proud that I let myself be hurt again and again. I am proud to love.