Cars

Saturday I got in the Durango to take Bri to the mall and it wouldn't start. I came into the kitchen, sat down and cried. Yes, I had a pity party for one - ME! Then a friend came over to jump it.

Sunday I got up and dressed pretty since it was Mother's Day and again went out to the Durango and NADA! I again came inside and cried - surprise another pity party!

Monday I knew it wouldn't start so I didn't even bother. Bri walked to school and I got a ride to work. I get to my office and within an hour of getting there I get a voicemail message from P/SL. This should not have been in my voicemail. P/SL is Presbyterian/St. Luke's Hospital - where Mike had his transplant.

I hit the play button and within five seconds click the off button and say out loud with my boss standing there, "I can't deal with this right now," and burst into tears. Betsy, our transplant coordinator, has a letter from the donor and she wanted to confirm the address. Later in the day when I was feeling stronger I called her back and confirmed the address and that yes, the donor knew about Mike.

I came home and replaced the battery in the Durango. That brought back some memories of starting a car project and not being able to stop even if it was dark until it was fixed. The good ol' days when life was a little less complicated if it was just as painful.

Tomorrow is another day to either run, walk or crawl.