I was up early, because I had a good dream that appeared to be heading the wrong way (my plane was taking off and I realized I was outside on the wing), so I thought it was better to wake up. I lay in bed thinking about beginning a new year. I know better than to wish I knew what lay ahead. I mean, really. We've all BTDT, and I can tell you that if God ever sat me down and said, "Well, this year, Julia, you're going to deal with ___ and ___ and _____" I'd be screaming, "NO way can I do that! Not a chance!"
Except, of course, I can. And when I'm stuck with it, I do. And in the long run that's better, and I'm a better person because of it. Even if at the time it stinks.
I have two pieces of good news to report:
- At the last possible minute, Dancer was given a scholarship to the high school of her choice in EXACTLY the amount we needed, and
- Big Guy will have insurance again as of March 1. His case worker has filed to get him bumped up to the next level of care, too, which would give him a Medicaid disability waiver and a number of in-home services. That could be good.
My mom sent me a box with the two things I'd asked for: vacuum cleaner bags and a pair of jeans.
And so the day ends with much to be thankful for. I am content, and older, and still staggering along the trail of sanity. Here's hoping the same is true for you.