walking two moons.

"I was going to explain about the nervous young man and the mysterious messages, but my father would call me a goose. Instead, I said, “How do you know that someone-not exactly a lunatic, but just someone-didn’t make Mom go to Idaho? Maybe it was blackmail—

“Sal. Your mother went because she wanted to go.”

“We should have stopped her.”

“A person isn’t a bird. You can’t cage a person.”

“She shouldn’t have gone. If she hadn’t gone—“

“Sal, I’m sure she intended to come back.” We had reached our house, but we didn’t go in. We sat on the porch steps. Dad said, “You can’t predict—a person can’t forsee –you never know—“

He looked away, and I felt miserable right along with him. I apologized for being ornery and for upsetting him. He put his arm around me and we sat there together on the porch, two people being completely pitiful and lost."

.

sometimes. i just don't know. but sometimes, when it seems the worst, the world suddenly makes sense that it can and most certainly will be alright. It's going to be alright. I am hoping and praying God would use it, that I would walk through it, and not wait for it to go away. yes.