It’s been a rough couple of weeks.

About two and a half weeks ago I got one of those calls that everyone dreads getting. One of my sisters-in-law had been in a car accident and she hadn’t survived. She had been a single mom, with three teenage daughters. The oldest was 18 and had been away at college, though she was home for the summer, but the other two have not yet started high school.

It fell to me to relay the news to my husband, as well as his father. I’ll just say there’s a difficult relationship between my father-in-law and most of the children from his first marriage, and leave it at that.

Thankfully, it’s summer and my own children are not currently in school, as soon as I got the first call, I started them packing their things. After I made my calls, I started packing myself. By 6:00pm we were on the road. We drove all night and the trip took 13 hours.

We ended up staying two weeks. It was difficult for everyone involved, making decisions about where the girls should go and how to deal with it (their father passed away several years ago,) planning services, high emotions and general family drama.

I was glad to get home. I’d missed my bed, my own pillow and the quiet comfort of not having to walk on eggshells to keep from inadvertently hurting someone’s feelings. 

I’m not quite back in my work groove, but I’m getting there. I’ve been doing a lot of not-actual-writing business. Getting ready for an appearance and household stuff that was just put on hold when we left. I’ll get back where I should be, but it may take me a few more days.