It’s difficult to find words to convey the gratitude I feel for all of the beautiful, heartfelt comments on my last post. It wasn’t easy being that honest, but as is usually the case when we make ourselves vulnerable, you opened your virtual arms and wrapped them around us. Marcel and I are both comforted by the stories, wisdom, and compassion you showed. Thank you, thank you, thank you. (I’d like to respond to you all personally, but am finding very little time to spend on a computer these days, so that’s a challenge.)

We are on a short family road trip. It seemed like a good way to find some family healing, especially since the destination included some of the family members who always support us through the tough spots in life. (And we like to think we do the same for them.)

A couple of days ago, as we crossed the prairies, the girls spotted the giant moose statue where we’d stopped for a picnic three years ago on another family road trip. They started giggling, remembering (and this will show you what a classy mom I am) how I’d taken pictures of them standing a fair distance from the moose and holding their hands up to make it look like they were cupping the moose’s balls in their hands.

As they giggled in the back seat, I was suddenly overcome with emotion. This phrase flooded my mind… “We are still whole.”

We are still whole. That’s an amazing thought. We will have other family giggling moments (like last night, playing Lego Rock Band in my brother’s basement.) We will stop to picnic by other giant statues and find ways of blending them into our family stories.

We have been through a deep valley, but we’re driving out the other side into the light. Together. A wounded but whole family unit. I couldn’t ask for more.

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