That is what I felt like today. I left about 4:30 a.m. to get to Austin. I stayed there all day, well until about 2:00 p.m. anyway. But when I called at 7:10 a.m. to make sure Bethany was up and going (I knew she would be), I felt...well... distant. I know that sounds like a pun, and technically, it is, but I felt the distance. All I could do was talk on the phone. Anything that happened, good or bad, would be beyond my ability to do anything about. (You know, you just can't write that sentence without putting the preposition at the end and it still sound right! Sorry grammar teachers of America.) (I know, I know, I could rewrite the whole sentence, but come on...).
And besides, Tracy's great Mom was taking care of things. But, mothers, you know it doesn't matter how much someone can show you that things are taken care of (oops, another misplaced preposition. I think the rules need to change.) you still feel what you feel. Oh my gosh, I'm turning into a woman! Aaaaggghhh. If you were in my Sunday School class Sunday, you would have heard me talk about mothers who say, "I'm a mother" to justify their worrying. Ok, now look, I wasn't really worrying. I just wanted to be there to take care of her. When I called about 1:00 p.m. and she hadn't eaten lunch and wasn't sure what she would do, (She can make it well enough, but there are potentials for problems there, you know.) I wished I was there to just take care of it. That's not worrying, it's just love. There, that ought to get me back in line a little ... yeah right!
She really did fine. She wrote a few of thank you notes and slept. We have learned from our experiences, and from some of you, that she's gotta sleep a lot right now. That's ok. She is really doing great. She walked on the treadmill again tonight and she went a least a mile if not longer.
She takes naps during the day, but call her if you can or want to. She will be home alone mostly. That may not be all bad, but she still can't do a whole lot for very long without wearing out. It makes for a long day.
Man, I forgot something I wanted to say to you. Oh well. In the immortal words of my mother, "Well, it must not have been very important." Goodness a mercy!