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Yesterday, I got up, after being away from my husband for thirteen days, with a smile on my face and sense of urgency to get on the road. I already had all the things I needed to load in my jeep packed, including our black cat Jojo. So in record time I was out the door and on the road back to my new home in Montana.
The day started out lovely, the weather was cooler, and my first stop was a visit at Ma and Pa's as I had some stuff to drop off to them, plus, if I am driving by and can, I usually stop.
That's where the fun began.
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My grandma is getting ready to leave this realm. It's hard to say goodbye, and I love my grandma. She's been declining for awhile, but my cousins are taking amazing care of her and she is surrounded by love. However, it worked out that I was there with mom and dad when Grandma came too enough that my cousins called so mom could talk to her while she was awake. With me there though, we could video call her, and we did, and we got to spend a special bit of time with Grams. Nothing will wreck you like a family member who you love and adore, who's largely unable to response, calling for you at the end of their time here.
There was lots of crying. There was also lots of love.
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So, a while later when I left Ma and Pa's to continue on the journey to my hubs, I was a bit flummoxed but still going strong. I started my car, and then like a harbinger of fun things to come, my check engine light came on.
Since my car was running, I cruised the fifteen miles up the road to my buddy's auto shop. He was out sick, but his son used the code reader and discovered that it was a misfire in the same cylinder as before, the cylinder that just had it's coil replaced. Before I could even get it all typed the hubs declared he was on his way.
By the time the hubs got there the other mechanic discovered that the replaced coil was faulty and replaced it as the hubs got there, but I still was glad he rode to my rescue, because as I was leaving the shop, I failed to step over the hydraulic lift and splatted on the ground like a sack of shicaca.
I popped up like a meth-addled groundhog. The mechanic grabbed me by the arm and just started wiping grease off and asking me if I was okay.
Here's the thing, I really wasn't.
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I had been gone from my husband, my life's turned upside down, I was supposed to start school that evening, I HATE CAR STUFF, my grandma is dying, and now my knees were both badly hurt.
I felt so bad too, because I grew up in shops, I know how to walk around in them, I just had reached the limit of things I could handle and should have just stopped for a bit.
And I still had over a hundred miles of driving ahead of me.
During that bit of driving I came upon a tanker truck accident, more than one wildfire, lots of scared wildlife, my hood wasn't properly shut and I made an emergency stop to close it, the list just kept going on and on. And I could barely walk because my left knee was especially swollen.
But I made it home.
I will also freely admit that I cried a lot on the way up the mountain. I refused to hold it in like I usually do. Which I think means I may be growing. I don't know.
I do know that for some reason the Universe deems it necessary for me to face not one bit of tribulation often, but multiple hydra-like scenarios, repeatedly, and often. It's like I am in training, and you know what, I am getting used to it.
That said, this knees injury thing I could have lived without. I think my left patella may be fractured, but I am treating it with a comfrey compress and will make a decision if I need to go get it x-rayed once I get my swelling to retreat, everything seems to be functioning, I'm just hurting, and that's sorta normal for me anyway.
Overall though, I'm gonna check out for the next couple days. I have to start a full course load in college Monday, and I have a bunch more on my plate coming up, so a bit of a healing reprieve is required.
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